


Drama Club

by SaintDionysus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Romeo And Juliet - Shakespeare
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, Comedy, F/F, F/M, Hogwarts, Implied Sexual Content, Inappropriate Behavior, Language, Romantic Comedy, School
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-10
Updated: 2018-04-28
Packaged: 2018-09-23 06:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 21,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9645293
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaintDionysus/pseuds/SaintDionysus
Summary: Professor Flitwick attempts to bring a classic tragedy to Hogwarts, instead, comedy ensues. This tale will be told by the students who lived it.Sixth year. Lucius isn’t in Azkaban, Draco isn’t tasked with fixing the vanishing cabinet, things are kind of quiet in regards to Voldie, and Dumbledore is an idiot.Thank you to MrBenzedrine89, mama2HPbabies, and MotheroBulls for the beta love!





	1. Chapter 1

Four school houses, full of teenage angst and lust,

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry,

The charms professor says that they must,

Perform Shakespeare for the whole school to see.

From forth the cast of unlikely players,

A pair of star-cross'd lovers shock the school;

Whose misadventured tryst under the stairs.

Do…

* * *

 

_“Granger, are you really trying to rewrite the whole prologue to fit what happened to us in Drama Club?”_

_“Shut up, Malfoy. It’s not easy to write in iambic pentameter.”_

_“Then just write what happened. It’s a lot better than your Shakespeare rip-off.”_

_“Fine. Go on. Tell them how it happened.”_

* * *

Once upon a time…

* * *

_“HA! You tease me for copying Shakespeare and you start off telling the story like it’s a fairy tale?”_

_“Well, there is a handsome prince—me.”_

_“You’re impossible,” she chews the end of her quill and thinks. “I’ve got it.”_

* * *

It was January of nineteen-ninety seven. The students of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry were returning from their Christmas holidays. The new term would not be as strenuous on the sixth years as they still had an entire year to prepare for their N.E.W.T. level examinations. Many muggle-borns and half-bloods were chatting on about the Romeo and Juliet film they saw in the cinema. Professor Flitwick couldn’t help but eavesdrop into their conversations, and a plan began to formulate in his brilliant mind…

* * *

_“Oh, that’s good, Granger. Nice.”_

_“Stop interrupting, Draco.”_

_“You’re so cute when you’re bossy...and you’re always bossy.”_

_“So are you saying I’m cute all the time?”_

_“Pretty much.”_

_She bites her bottom lip and can’t hide her smile as she puts her quill to the parchment…_

* * *

**Drama Club**

By Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy

* * *

_“Hmm...I think it needs a bit more pizzaz. Give me your quill,” Draco says while yanking the quill out of her hand._

* * *

~~Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger~~

~~Dramione~~

~~Hottest Damn Couple at Hogwarts~~

* * *

_“Seriously, Draco. Just pick something,” Hermione says, getting more and more impatient by the moment. Draco has a mischievous look in his eyes and scrawls something else._

* * *

By Hermione and Draco Malfoy

* * *

_“No,” Hermione says sternly._

_“Come on. It looks nice like that,” he says with a wink and starts to brush his finger against her cheek. She smiles but shakes her head ‘no.’ Knowing that he clearly isn’t going to win this one, he says, “Fine.”_

* * *

By Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy

* * *

_“Perfect,” she says and gives him a kiss on the cheek as a reward._

* * *

“Minerva?” The little wizard attempted to nab the attention of his long-time colleague from across the teacher’s lounge.

“Yes, Filius?” The witch responded without looking up from the newspaper.

“I was thinking of putting on a production of _Romeo and Juliet_ this year,” Flitwick said, finally piquing McGonagall’s attention." I’ve heard all the muggleborns and half-bloods going on about this new film adaptation. I hadn’t read the story in years, and, well, I fell back in love with it.”

“Oh, yes. I saw it over Christmas with my niece and her daughter,” she said matter-of-factly. “Lovely film. Very clever interpretations to fit the modern world.”

“You saw it? How?” The head of Ravenclaw says sounding stunned.

“Filius, I am not going to enumerate the length of time we have been friends, but you should recall that my brothers and I are half-bloods, and they both married muggleborns. We do still like to venture into to muggle world from time to time,” Minerva responded curtly.

“No need to act like such a shrew, Minnie...Shrew...hmm...if this is successful, maybe we can do _Taming of the Shrew_ next season.” Though Ravenclaw house was known for some of the most brilliant minds, it was also known for the some of the flightiest. Honestly, they have too many ideas at once.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, Filius. Now, how do you intend on putting on this production?”

“Well, we would put it on in the courtyard and build a stage so it feels a bit like the Globe Theatre, you know. Add to the authenticity.”

“It’s January in Scotland,” she said as she gave him a deadpan glare.

“We have magic—”

“—and children who will intentionally break down any climate controlling spells just to see their classmates shiver in tights,” she pointed out the obvious.

“Fair point.”

“You know, we have a wonderful, empty room with incredible acoustics just waiting for a remodel.”

“Oh really? Which room?”

“The Chamber of Secrets.”

“Minnie! Are you off your rocker?”

“I am not! Think about it Filius; the Chamber is large enough, so you don’t need to worry about extension charms wearing off. It currently serves zero purpose now that bloody monster is dead. We found the secondary entrance from Hogsmeade, so it will be easy enough to receive patrons, and we can change the school entrance so that no one has to enter through the bathroom. The current path down catches up at a certain point in the dungeons, close to the Slytherin common room.”

“Minerva, it seems as though you have thought about this before.”

“Well, I'm not one who enjoys inefficiency, wasted space, lack of purpose, or nonsense.”

“You know who our boss is right?”

She shot him a scathing look. But it was true; Dumbledore was a complete tosser.

* * *

_“Draco! You can't call our headmaster a tosser in the story!” Hermione exclaims._

_“Why not? He is! You know it. I know it. The entire school knows it. He's brilliant with spells and magical law, but when it comes to his students—I swear that man is trying to kill us,” Draco reasons with Hermione. “We had to serve detention in a FORBIDDEN Forest, tracking down a unicorn killer, oh...um...who happened to be_ The Dark Lord _—when we were eleven and twelve year olds. What kind of person does that?”_

_“A right tosser. Fine, we’ll leave it.”_

_“Did I just win an argument against Hermione Granger?”_

_“No. You persuaded me to see things from your perspective,” she says and can’t hide her smirk._

_“Well, I intend on persuading you into more things later. Okay, back to the story,” he says and squeezes her knee._

* * *

“Well, Minerva, how do you intend on paying for these renovations? They sound a lot grander than I was imagining,” Professor Flitwick made a valid point.

A wicked smile appeared on her face, as she already had the answer to that question. “Filius, what do we have going on in about twenty minutes?”

“The school governors meeting,” he responded, still confused at what she was implying.

* * *

The Heads of House and the governors were all seated around the oval table in a little used staff room. They were discussing upcoming O.W.L. and N.E.W.T. examinations, but Dumbledore tuned out when it came to the topics of security and safety precautions.

Professor McGonagall spoke up and told all those in attendance about Professor Flitwick’s plan on putting on a production of _Romeo and Juliet_. Professor Snape looked less than thrilled. Many were a bit skeptical but open to the idea. Although, one of the governors looked incredibly intrigued.

“So you intend on actually bringing some culture to this school. Fascinating,” Lucius Malfoy drawled. “And where do you intend on putting on this little play? Yes, this school as a life-sized chess board and obnoxious moving stairs, but what it lacks is a decent auditorium.”

“Wonderful of you to bring that up, Lucius. I have a proposition for you,” the tone of Minerva’s voice was less stern than usual—it was almost playful. “How would the Malfoy family like to have an auditorium named after them? And not just any auditorium, but one that will bring pride back to Slytherin House.”

“Go on,” Lucius said with a raised eyebrow.

“We propose remodeling the Chamber of Secrets into the new Malfoy Theatre—”

“— Performing Arts Centre. M-PAC for short. I do love an acronym,” the senior Malfoy said proudly. “Done. No need to explain any more. I’ll owl Narcissa immediately and have her contact architects and designers. She’ll most likely want to oversee the construction. Just do make sure it’s cleared out before my wife arrives. Animal carcasses aren’t quite her thing.”

“Oh?” Dumbledore looked puzzled, then finally realizing what Lucius was implying... “OH! Yes. Severus, as Defense of the Dark Arts professor, please oversee the the removal of the basilisk and keep the fangs in a safe place. Who knows when those might come in handy.”

The greasy haired professor nodded at the headmaster’s request.

“I do have one requirement,” Lucius said. “Persuade Draco to participate. He doesn’t have to be the lead but I would really like for that child to read something that isn’t kept under his mattress.”

* * *

_“Draco...what are you keeping under your mattress?” Hermione asks him, trying not to let her temper flare up._

_“I’m a sixteen-year-old male. What do you think I keep under my mattress? I mean, if I got to see the real thing every now and then, I wouldn’t need reading material,” he says suggestively._

_“We’ll see...”_

_“You want to see my dirty magazines? Granger, you have no idea what thoughts you just put in my head…”_

_She sighs and rolls her eyes, unable to respond. Instead, she let him nuzzle her neck as she pulls out another sheet of parchment._

 


	2. Chapter 2

_Hermione can’t contain her giggling. Draco’s breath tickles her neck and sends shivers down her spine._

_“Shh!” Madame Pince reprimands the young couple._

_“Alright, Draco. We need to finish this. We haven’t even gotten to the part where we went from—”_

_“—wanting to kill each other to wanting to shag each other?”_

_“Real eloquent,” she says sarcastically, “but yes.”_

_“Alright, on with the show...”_

* * *

All the prefects were gathered in their lounge for their weekly meeting, awaiting the heads of house. The room was a comfortable space, not too large. It only ever needed to accommodate around thirty people at most. It was filled with comfortable seating in all the house colors and a large Hogwarts insignia over the fireplace. One wall was dedicated to the prefects’ patrol schedule and division of duties and another wall showed the awarding and deduction of house points in real time.

Hermione Granger looked dead sexy as her uniform skirt seemed shorter than usual, exposing those long, toned legs. Her jumper also looked much tighter as the woolen fabric practically suffocated her perky tits. The house elves must have used hot water by accident. Who could have ever convinced them to do that…

On the other side of the room, Draco Malfoy looked like an arrogant prick as he let that slag Pansy Parkinson run her fat little fingers through his beautiful hair. What is it with her hands? How can she be rail thin with no tits, and have weird chubby hands. I guess that happens when you’re busy giving hand jobs to every boy in school.

When the heads of house walked in, the prefects gathered closely to await instructions.

“Good afternoon, prefects,” Professor McGonagall said.

“Good afternoon, professor,” they replied in unison.

“I’ll be brief. Please continue your confiscation of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes,” she said sternly.

“I almost regret teaching those little bastards charms,” said Professor Flitwick.

“And potions. Much to my dismay, they were two of my best students,” Professor Snape interjected.

“Yes, yes. They are very talented indeed. Nonetheless, their products are disruptive and far too effective,” Minerva said with a mix of pride and exasperation, “We’ll have to hire Madame Pomfrey an assistant at this rate.”

“Slytherin House,” Snape said as he stared daggers into his prefects, “‘He looked at me funny’ is not grounds for deduction of points. If you are clearly irritated by a student, do use a bit more imagination on how you report them.”

“Severus!” Professor Sprout exclaimed. The head of Hufflepuff was astounded at the Slytherin head’s suggestion.

Snape rolls his eyes and added, “What I am implying is find a better reason. Do not deduct points because you are in the mood to do so.”

After a series of grumbles, they eventually agreed and said, “Yes, professor.”

“Hufflepuff House,” Professor Sprout says with a warm sunny smile, “My dears, you issue far too many warnings. You need to start deducting. You can’t keep letting the little scamps run all over you. Please try to be a bit more disciplinarian.”

The Hufflepuffs, eager to please, immediately responded with, “Yes, professor.”

“Ravenclaw House,” Professor Flitwick looked downright perturbed, “Your responsibilities as prefects take the same precedence as your studies. You cannot patrol the halls with your noses stuck in books or doodling in sketchpads and strike offending students with silencing and petrification charms. You must handle miscreants in a diplomatic manner.”

The Ravenclaws don’t understand what the big deal is but also agreed to their head’s request and responded, “Yes, professor.”

“Gryffindor House,” Professor McGongall rubs her temples not knowing where to start, “Everything Professor Snape said applies to you as well. Also, you haven’t been silencing students or petrifying them, but you’ve been threatening to do so, and that is just as bad— _Mr. Weasley_.”

The Gryffindors sat there shuffling their feet as the Slytherins chuckled at their being scolded like children—But it didn’t stop the Gryffindors from sneering at the snakes. The gryffindor prefects all agreed in unison and also replied with, “Yes, professor.”

“Very well,” Professor McGonagall said, “Last order of business. Professor Flitwick will be directing a production of William Shakespeare’s Romeo and Juliet, and I will be the producer.”

“Producer?” Filius sounded alarmed, not knowing how his production was just hijacked.

“Did I get your your auditorium or not?” she bent down and asked him quietly.

“Oh, well. Yes…” the little wizard said at a loss for words.

The crowd of students murmured excitedly.

“There are plenty of roles to fill, actors, costume designers, set designers, and lighting and sound technicians,” Minerva said excitedly. Her tone shocked the students. With exception to quidditch matches, they have only ever seen her either stern or stoic—and there really isn’t much variation in those two states.

“And there will be a twist to the tale!” Flitwick said sounding even more thrilled, “We are retelling the tale set in the Wizarding World! Instead of muggle dueling, we will be working in stage wand work with modified spells!”

The boys in the room nod thinking that putting on a stuffy old play might not be too terrible. The girls are total mush thinking who will play the leads in the most romantic tragedy in all of literature.

Professor McGonagall hands out a sign-up sheet to each house, “Hang these up in your common rooms and return them to Professor Flitwick on Friday. Auditions will begin one week from today.”

The students nodded in acknowledgment.

“You may be dismissed,” said Professor Snape, “Mister Malfoy, can you please hold back a moment.”

“I’ll see you back in the common room,” Parkinson said suggestively. Draco shrugs as his eyes flitted over to see Granger bent over as she picked her rucksack off the ground.

“Yes, professor?” the handsome heir asked

“Your father wants you involved in the play,” Snape said directly.

“Oh, does he? Well, I’ll tell him that I already intended on it," Draco said, surprised that he even needed to be told.

“Really? Have you read the play? Do you already know what role you would like to audition for?” Snape said with an air of condescension.  

“Definitely not Romeo. The whole ‘star-crossed lovers’ thing isn’t really my bag. Most likely Tybalt — risking death to protect family honor — I can really identify with that, wouldn’t you agree? Also, he has great dueling scenes.”

Snape was impressed that Draco Malfoy, not only read this play before, but actually had a grasp on character development. “Very well. Good luck to you.”

“Thanks, professor.”

That is where the professor made his error. It’s bad luck to say ‘good luck’ in the theatre. Snape had sent Draco on an unexpected path.

* * *

Meanwhile in the Gryffindor common room, Ginny squirmed in her jumper and grew irritable, eventually pulling it off, to reveal her white uniform shirt. The material was stretched so tightly across her chest, it appeared as though buttons could pop off at any moment.

“Why is my uniform so tight?!?” the redhead exclaimed.

“You too?” Hermione returned the frustration. “I thought it was just me. I was blaming it on Christmas weight.”

“No, I think the laundry was tampered with. Christmas goodies would explain the shirts and jumpers, but it won’t explain how our skirts are now four inches shorter,” Ginny said as she pulled down her skirt.

“Do you know if any girls from the other houses have this problem?” Hermione asked.

“Just Gryffindor and Ravenclaw. I have a theory,” Ginny said and grabbed Hermione’s attention, “Apparently, our houses have the best legs and arses in the school because we live in the towers. I’ll take it as a form of flattery.”

“Great. One more thing for me to deal with. Fucking prefect duties,” Hermione took her jumper off, too, as they sat on the rug in front of the fire. “So I'm thinking about going after the role of the Nurse or the Friar,”

“Why not go for the lead?” Ginny asked while stuffing her face full of crisps.

“Because I'm refuse to play a female character who would just off themselves because of some man or boy or whatever. You know what I mean?” Hermione said, getting heated as her feminist ideals make their way forward.

“Well, rumor has it, Cormac McLaggen, Blaise Zabini, and Dean are all going out for Romeo. As someone who has kissed Dean, it would be quite enjoyable for any Juliet. Also, have you seen both Zabini and McClaggen without their shirts off? God bless Quidditch.” Ginny puts her hands together in mock prayer.

“Blaise, no. Cormac on the other hand…”

“Hermione Granger! Spill it!” Ginny demanded.

“Well, he was far more tolerable after a few glasses of champagne at Slughorn’s Christmas party. Especially when his mouth was too busy to talk…”

* * *

_“No! No! No! I don't want to hear this!” Draco exclaims as takes the quill from Hermione._

_“What Draco? Don’t want to hear me talk about Cormac?” Hermione says playfully._

_“Why would I want to hear about that?” Draco says, getting jealous and frustrated._

_“Oh, come off it. I know all about your exploits. The whole school does. You don’t want me to write about how Cormac snuck me behind the drapes and reached under my—”_

_“Stop!” he says as he puts his hand over her mouth. She retaliates by licking the inside of his palm, sending his senses wild and releasing his grip, “Fuck, Granger.”_

_“You know, it’s not fair that I know everything about your past and you know nothing of mine,” she says matter-of-factly._

_“Can’t I keep the illusion that I’m the one corrupting you?”_

_“Malfoy, you assume I haven’t been corrupted?” She has the most mischievous look in her eye and it drives Draco crazy. He has no idea how to read it. “Oh, speak of the devil. Look who’s coming this way. Hi, Cormac.”_

_“Hermione,” he says with a wink. Cormac then turns to Draco and says with a more curt voice, “Malfoy.”_

_“Dick-laggen.”_

_“I’m sorry. What did you say?” the burly seventh year says as he stops in his tracks._

_“McLaggen. What do you think I said?” Draco says trying to be cool._

_Cormac looks Draco up and down and walks away in a huff._

_Hermione touches Draco on the arm and says, “I have an idea...”_

_Draco, still cranky about the situation, pouts, “What?”_

_“You make me forget all about what’s-his-mouth,” Hermione says while running her finger across his bottom lip._

_“Yeah, the story can wait. We have another couple of days until the deadline. Let’s go.” With a flick of the wrist he waves his wand and quickly packs all of their belongings in his school bag. He grabs Hermione by the hand and drags her out of the library to give her new—no—better memories._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s time for the auditions!
> 
> Notes: I’m so so sorry it has been so long since the last update. I had other stories and was chasing my muse. But we (SaintDionysus, Draco, and Hermione, of course) are back from hiatus! Also, the rating went up. Well, shenanigans and language called for it. Sorry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: Mama2HPBabies, my beautiful beautiful beta. She is like bottled sunshine and roses. If I am Leslie Knope, she is my Ann Perkins.

_Hermione and Draco walk into the prefects’ lounge with the guiltiest of faces. She smooths down her skirt and adjusts her jumper._

_Draco walks a few steps behind her, unable to keep his eyes off her backside. He looks over at some of the other male prefects and suggestively wipes his mouth and gives them a wink. While the two other Slytherin prefects give him the thumbs up, Ron Weasley’s face goes bright red. His mood you could best describe as rage, embarrassment, and jealousy stuffed into a butterbeer bottle, shaken up, then handed to Professor Snape. It wasn’t pretty and potentially volatile. Draco doesn’t make things any better and puts his arm around Hermione’s shoulders._

_She whispers to him, “I can’t believe we couldn’t find my underwear.”_

_“It’s because it’s in my pocket,” he smirks cheekily._

_“Well, are you going to give them back? It’s awfully drafty in this castle,” she says, annoyed._

_He purrs in her ear, “Just making it easier for later…”_

_“Oh.”_

_A satisfied smile appears on his face. He had finally outsmarted Hermione Granger. “Come on, let’s sit over there. We can write some more before our meeting.”_

* * *

Blaise Zabini lounged in his bed and asked his housemate, “Okay Draco, how did you get them to do it?”

“Seriously?” Draco said with mock surprise. Blaise was pretty and charming; logical he was not. “They’re elves, Z. You just say, ‘The Gryffindor and Ravenclaw girls requested their wash to be extra clean, so that means hot water. Prefects’ orders.’ Then they go, ‘of course, Master Draco. Right away, Master Draco.’” He sighed, “It wasn’t hard at all. I’m surprised no one tried it before.”

* * *

 _“Draco! That’s what happened?” Hermione says, a bit too loud, garnering unwanted attention. “You’re unbelievable!” She attempts to stand and walk away, but Draco grabs her by the wrist and pulls her in for a kiss, silencing her. A few of the other prefects_ _hoot and holler in encouragement_ _._

_He pulls away to be greeted with her eyes, still narrow, staring daggers. Her face relaxes a bit into a half smile. “It’s a good thing you’re cute. You owe me new uniforms.”_

_“The ones you have not short and tight enough?” he jokes._

_Hermione pinches his side, “Cheeky. Back to writing.”_

* * *

The hero worship continued with a round of applause. He finally calmed his minions and asked, “So who’s auditioning for _Romeo and Juliet_? I’m thinking about going out for Tybalt. He has the most fight scenes, and I appreciate the fact his character will do anything to preserve the family legacy.”

“Ha, real stretch there, Malfoy,” Theodore Nott joked. “You plan on swapping Montague for Mudblood in the script to be accurate?”

Draco scoffed at the appalling slur, _(Uh, huh. Sure.)_ “Don’t be asinine, Nott. The works of William Shakespeare are a masterpiece. So, are you trying out?”

“Are you kidding? Yeah, let’s have the kid with social anxiety go up on stage in front of the whole school. Sorry, I don’t fancy wearing tights and have way too much on my plate. Advanced arithmancy and advanced runes are kicking my arse, not to mention Flitwick’s spell creation assignment,” Theo griped and took out a joint. “I had Longbottom make me a blend to help me with anxiety and focus. Finch-Fletchley said the muggle term is ADHD. Attention...something or other. My brain goes crazy, and I can’t concentrate. But since I dropped Herbology,” he lit it, took a drag, and coughed, “I can’t make these for myself anymore. Damn. Longbottom is going to make a killing.”

Crabbe looked at Theo instantly relax as he inhaled the vapors. “So what does that,” he pointed at the hand-rolled herbal cigarette, “do to us without—”

“Functioning thought process?” Theo interrupted. “Crabbe, you’re so thick, if you slowed down your brain anymore, we might as well transfigure you into a table because it wouldn’t make any difference. At least you would be more useful than you are now.”

It took Crabbe a few moments to register the fact Theo had insulted him. The oaf tried to tackle the skinny git, but even under the influence of drugs, he was still faster and shot the idiot with a petrification spell.

“Alright, that should buy us a good thirty minutes for a decent conversation,” Blaise joked. “I’m going out for Romeo. I mean, look at me. It’s in the bag.”

The three conscious Slytherins rolled their eyes at this remark.

“I’m trying out for Benvolio,” Goyle mumbled.

“I’m sorry,” Draco cupped his ear, pretending he didn’t hear Goyle.

He raised his voice a little louder, “I’m trying out, alright!”

“Salazar, I can’t wait to watch this shit show,” Theo snickered.

* * *

The platform of the new stage was already built, and a cacophony of the enchanted saws and hammers filled the Chamber as they frantically worked toward completion. The sound dampening fabrics have yet to be hung, and the echoing was almost unbearable until Professor Flitwick cast a silencing charm.

“Boys and girls,” Professor Flitwick called to the students. “There are two sign-up sheets. One is for cast and the other for crew. Write your name and what role in the production you’re looking to have a part in. Thank you.”

The students filed in their respective lines. Surprisingly, or not, most Gryffindors and Slytherins queued for cast sign-ups, and most Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws queued for the crew, except for Ginny Weasley.

“Weasley,” Blaise called to Ginny in his usual lothario fashion, “You not a fan of the spotlight?”  

“Be nice, Zabini,” she retorted. “I’m going to be in wardrobe. If you want your balls to breathe in your tights or don’t want to end up in a potato sack, watch your mouth.”

“Thanks for your concern for my balls, _Ginevra,”_ he drawled, intentionally using her given name.

She gave him a little wink and smile—the universal sign given by teenage girls to prospective partners  indicating  ‘you have a chance, but it’s not going to be easy.’

“Well, Gin. You know how much room to leave for me,” Dean Thomas coolly interjected, and reciprocated the smile and wink, but added a _click_ of his tongue against his teeth.

Ginny licked her lips and responded, “That I do, Dean. That I do.”

Zabini shot Thomas a threatening look, to which the Gryffindor just shrugged his shoulders.

Hermione Granger carefully penned her name on the list and the roles of Nurse and Friar next to it.

Draco Malfoy peered over her shoulder, as she wrote. “Granger. Nurse and Friar? Seriously?”

She turned abruptly to find herself practically pinned to the table by the sneering Slytherin. Her eyes narrowed and slipped out of his clutches. _(Clutches? You’re over exaggerating here. How about his hovering, muscular body? No?)_ “Maybe I’m trying to push myself creatively, Malfoy. The titular role is a bit cliche, don’t you think?”

He curled his lip in a mischievous smile, “Titular? That’s a five galleon word if I’ve ever heard one. Well, I’m going out for Tybalt. With any luck, we won’t have to interact with each other at all.”

“Splendid,” she said, dripping with alluring sarcasm. _(Alluring sarcasm? Interesting choice of words, but if that how you perceived it—)_

Draco watched the swot sway her hips as she stormed off. She has no idea how absolutely enticing her arse is or how her curls bounce, beckoning any man with an ounce of testosterone to grab those locks, bend her over— 

* * *

_“DRACO! You can’t write that!” she whispers through gritted teeth as McGonagall mutters something about curfews._

_“You asked about ‘alluring sarcasm’. I’m attracted to your mind and body. What can I say?” he slips his hand up her skirt, causing her breath to hitch. “So shall I skip to the actual audition part?”_

_She bites her lip. “Yes, please.”_

* * *

Flitwick winced watching one audition after the next. It was miserable and embarrassing. Lavender Brown came prepared with fake blood and enacted the suicide scene. It was bleak. Pansy Parkinson was over-the-top, constantly pausing between lines with the back of her hand on her forehead sighing and fawning over an imaginary Romeo. Cormac McLaggen insisted on performing his entire audition shirtless. While it was quite enjoyable for all the girls in the audience, it couldn’t distract from the fact he wasn’t that great of an actor. Dean and Blaise both did so well that Flitwick also had them read for parts other than Romeo.

Next up was Greg Goyle. He nervously twisted the script in his hands and announced himself, “Hi. I’m Greg. I’ll be reading for the role of Mercutio.” The giggles coming from the crowd began to rattle him, so he bent his head down to focus. When he raised his head, his eyes met the audience and his features almost changed—the character had taken over. “ _The date is out of such prolixity_ ,” he shrugged, sounding annoyed. He walked with a certain swagger across the stage and started listing items on his fingers. “ _We'll have no Cupid hoodwink'd with a scarf, Bearing a Tartar's painted bow of lath, Scaring the ladies like a crow-keeper...”_ he then looked at his friends in the audience and tilted his head, “ _Nor no without-book prologue, faintly spoke After the prompter, for our entrance.”_ He then grabbed the lapels of his of his robes and shrugged proudly, “ _But let them measure us by what they will,"_ he let out a final scoff, _“We'll measure them a measure, and be gone.”_

Silence. The audience stood slack-jawed, wondering how all of that came out of Goyle’s mouth, let alone the natural way he delivered it. He stood there, nervously waiting for a response and the crowd erupted into cheers. He made a tiny bow and rushed off the stage.

“What the hell was that?” Blaise asked, astonished.

“Was it bad?” Goyle’s self-doubt came over him.

“Bloody hell, Greg. That was brilliant,” Draco scratched his head in disbelief.

Goyle piped up, “I have a secret to tell you. Remember when I told you I’ve been spending the summers doing remedial charms work?”

“Yeah?” the two other Slytherins said questioningly.

“I was at summer theatre camp. Five years in a row. Mum thought it would help me get over my shyness and improve my reading skills,” he shrugged.

“Well, mate,” Draco clapped him on the shoulder, “I think you just got yourself the part.”

“I’m sorry students,” they heard Professor Flitwick call, “We are running out of time. Could I have the last two students to audition together? Hermione Granger and Draco Malfoy.”

The hooting and hollering, from the other students, was unnerving. The reluctant Slytherin and Gryffindor dragged their feet to the stage, only delaying the inevitable.

“Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy, I would like you to read for Romeo and Juliet, starting at the masquerade ball scene with Romeo saying, _If I profane with my unworthiest hand,"_ the professor directed.

“But professor, I don’t want the role of Juliet—”

“—And I don’t want to be Romeo.”

The professor removed his glasses, “I’m going to be direct with you—”

 _“Ravenclaw,”_ McGonagall coughed.

The charms professor shot his colleague a displeased look and continued, “I need you two to read a scene that has two people and conveys a range of emotions. Juliet isn’t a love sick girl at the start of the play. She finds out she’s getting stuck in a marriage her parents set up. Miss Granger. You’re a highly skeptical girl, and I believe you can play that part. Romeo, on the other hand, thinks he knows what he wants, but is pleasantly surprised when he arrives at the ball. Mister Malfoy, you’ve been making eyes at Miss Granger since she first uttered the words _wingardium leviosa_.”

The rowdy group of teenagers erupted into laughter once again. While Malfoy went bright red, Granger went white as a sheet. The embarrassment was almost too much to handle. He ruffled his hair and coughed, “Um. Where am I starting from, Professor?”

 _“If I profane with my unworthiest hand,”_ their professor repeated.

Granger crossed her arms in a huff and turned her back to her potential Romeo. He grumbled in monotone, “If I profane with my unworthiest hand.”

“Mister Malfoy, if you don’t take this seriously, you’ll get the part of Nameless Villager,” McGonagall called out.

Flitwick added, “And with feeling. Block the scene. Don’t just read the lines.”

Draco rolled his shoulders and shook his arms trying to get into character, despite his co-star being tense and unyielding. He made his way behind her and ran the back of his fingers against her arm, _“If I profane with my unworthiest hand This holy shrine, the gentle fine is this.”_ He hooked his fingers under hers, bringing her hand close to his lips. “ _My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss._ ”

Hermione yanked her hand away and scoffed. She was playing hard-to-get in the best way possible. _“Good pilgrim, you do wrong your hand too much, Which mannerly devotion shows in this...”_ She began walking away and flipped her hair in a way that would have made Juliet herself proud. _“For saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch, And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”_

Draco ran around, cutting her off, taking her hand once again. With his free hand, he ran his thumb along her jaw and over her lips. _“Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”_

From the audience, Draco heard Blaise mutter to Goyle, “Holy shit. What is happening?”

Professor Flitwick began to speak, “Wonder—”

“—Shut up, Filius. It’s just getting good,” Professor McGonagall cut him off.  

Back on stage, Hermione coyly stated, _“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”_

 _“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do;”_ Draco’s eyes darkened and leaned in for a kiss. _“They pray, grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.”_

Hermione turned her head and dodged his kiss. Laughing, unsure if he was doing it for the sake of herself or for her character she quoted the next line, _“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.”_

Ginny Weasley slid next to her head of house, “This. Is. Incredible.”

“Agreed,” McGonagall said in a rare bout of giddiness.

Draco’s arms snaked around Hermione’s waist, rendering her motionless. Her lips trembled, unable to process what was going on. He licked his lips and said in the most mischievous manner, _“Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take. Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.”_ Malfoy’s lips eagerly pressed against hers though he was met with resistance. It didn’t take long before she was putty in his arms. What should have been a simple stage kiss, turned into a full-on snogfest. Hermione’s hands reached up and grasped his blond locks while he tightened his grasp around her body.  

Their audience cheered them on, but the couple was oblivious to the world around them.

“Wonderful. I think we have found our Romeo and Juliet!” Professor Flitwick attempted to interrupt them. “Mister Malfoy? Miss Granger?”

Ginny put a finger to the charms teacher’s lips while McGonagall summoned a bowl of popcorn. The much taller transfiguration professor rested the bowl on the little wizard’s head so that she and Miss Weasley could enjoy the snack while watching the greatest coupling in the history of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Hermione, unaware she was told to stop reciting the play, slightly out of breath continued, _“Then have my lips the sin that they have took,”_ and went in for another kiss.

Begrudgingly, Draco pulled away, _“Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.”_ He hoisted her legs around his waist and pressed her up against a column, crashing his lips against her mouth once more.

Ginny grabbed the script out of Cormac’s hand and started fanning herself. “Damn. We should have seen this coming.”

“We should probably stop them about now…” McGonagall now alarmed watching Miss Granger undoing Mister Malfoy’s tie.

Hermione pulled away and bit her bottom lip, _“You kiss by the book.”_

Professor Flitwick couldn’t let this get any more out of hand and used the sonorus charm, “THANK YOU, STUDENTS. THE AUDITIONS WENT SPLENDIDLY...AND MAYBE A LITTLE _TOO_ INTO CHARACTER.”

Granger and Malfoy looked at their position and snapped out of it. She jumped off of him and adjusted her uniform. He took two steps back, smoothing his hair and suppressed his half-chub.

“CAST LIST AND CREW ASSIGNMENTS WILL BE POSTED TONIGHT AT DINNER. THANK YOU,” Flitwick said in his most directorial voice.

Hermione and Draco practically ran off the stage toward their friends who were standing at opposite sides of the crowd. Dean and Ginny, and Blaise and Greg seemed to have the same question. “What was that?”

To their respective friend groups, Hermione and Draco answered, “I don’t know.”

* * *

_They look up and realize they hadn’t paid attention to the meeting at all and were already being dismissed. Draco took the emptying room as an invitation to slide his hand further up her skirt._

_“Draco, you’re getting awfully handsy,” she said, unable to contain fits of laughter._

_“Did someone call me?” a pug-faced girl comes around the corner, interrupting Draco and Hermione’s shenanigans._

_“No, Parkinson. I said Draco was getting handsy, not Pansy,” the two girls face off and a catfight looks inevitable, but Hermione takes the high road. Well, not that high. “Draco, let’s go. I’m hungry.”_

_“Lunch was only an hour and a half ago,” he says, not quite grasping her suggestion. She turns toward him and licks her lips to reiterate the point she is trying to make. “Oh. Ooooooh! Um. Yeah. Let’s get you fed. Later, Pans.”_

_They pack up their bags and rush out of the prefects’ lounge._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The cast is announced. Draco and Hermione deal with their actions during the audition.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alpha/Betas:  
> [mama2HPbabies](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mama2HPbabies), my beta pie. She is a magnificent gemstone amongst a hill of turds. (Yes, I’m channeling a lot of Parks and Rec while writing this.) 
> 
> [MotherofBulls](https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotherofBulls/pseuds/MotherofBulls), my kindred spirit. We apparently channel teenage boys when we write and have no problem making cum jokes. “Ooh! Friend” (Also channeling the Inbetweeners.)
> 
> Notes:  
> Alright. I’m on a roll. I’m going to just keep pushing until this story is done. I’m still working on A Girl Worth Fighting For, but Drama Club just woke up in my brain and has to be written.  
> Songs that inspired the chapter: Just listening to the Romeo + Juliet soundtrack on repeat

_Once again, Draco and Hermione conspicuously emerge from some dark recess of the castle in the haze of some illicit liaison. She pulls down her jumper, adjusts her tie, and dusts off her knee-high socks. Draco struts around with his hands behind his head and notices something. He reaches over to wipe the corner of her mouth and says, "You missed a spot."_

_She blushes and says, “Work on your aim.”_

_He lets her into the Slytherin common room and there is a comfy sofa waiting for them. Well, not exactly. There are two first years who flee the second they see Draco walk toward them. Draco makes a face in sheer disgust as he brushes crumbs and sweet wrappers off the green velvet. “Were we all this gross when we were first years?”_

_“Honestly, I think we’re grosser now.” Hermione gives him a little wink. She settles in next to him and pulls out another sheet of parchment. Before they have a chance to continue their tale, Theo plops right between them._

_“Granger. Thank Merlin you’re here,” he babbles, not waiting for her to respond. “Okay, this is what I have for my arithmancy essay—”_

_“Theo, what the fuck? We just sat down,” Draco says with surprised annoyance._

_“You can have her back in like five minutes. I need her brain. Her big, beautiful brain,” Draco shoots him a look. “Whoa, mister possessive pants. Look across the room. There is Daphne—_ my girlfriend _—casually talking to Blaise about her homework. There is this thing called trust when you’re in a relationship.”_

_Draco rolls his eyes and pouts, “Talk about your bleeding essay already.”_

_“Go ahead, Nott,” Hermione urges._

_He clears his throat, “While Arithmancy’s humble beginnings were a means of Divination implying numerology to a codex, spellcasters have deduced that changing vocal inflections, as a result of changing the spelling of traditional latin phrases, can create new spells. Combined with the correlating numerical sequences of letters to numbers, algorithms can be used to intensify or weaken spells, resulting in—”_

_“Merlin. You two are actually pursuing this as N.E.W.T. level work?”  Draco looks at them, astounded at their life choices._

_“Um,  yeah,” Theo looks at Draco as if he has three heads. “I want to work for the Department of Mysteries. I need a thorough understanding of every discipline of magic._

_“You’re thinking of the Department of Mysteries? Me too! Oh my gosh!” Hermione said excitedly._

_“Enough,” Draco stops their geek out. “Give us thirty minutes, and then Hermione will help you. Merlin, you’re such a spazz, Theo.”_

_“Speaking of which,” Hermione reaches into her bag and takes out what appears to be a mint tin. She pulls out two joints and hands them to Theo. “From Neville to his favorite customer.”_

_Theo takes them and kisses her on the lips._

_“Hey!” Draco exclaims._

_“It’s platonic, Drake. Look when my girlfriend gives you drugs and helps you with homework, you can kiss her too. Later, Mines.” He hops off the sofa and heads toward Daphne and Blaise._

_“You didn’t enjoy that, did you?” Draco implores, a little worried about the smile on her face._

_She laughs and starts trailing her finger up and down his chest. “Nott’s too skinny and nervous. He’s like an orphaned chihuahua. I prefer my men with a bit more confidence and athleticism.”_

_“Oh yeah?” his eyebrow quirks at her remark._

_“You know, like Viktor, Cormac—” she lists on her fingers before he attacks her with tickles. She laughs uncontrollably. “And you! And YOU!”_

_“That’s what I thought,” he huffs smugly._

_She kisses him in apology and rests her head against his chest. “Ready to write for the next thirty minutes?”_

_“Yes, then you can help our neurotic friend.”_

* * *

Dinner was beyond awkward. Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table doing her best to avoid the Slytherin table, while Draco attempted to avoid her as well. When the dishes were cleared, Professor Flitwick posted the cast listing.

CAST LIST

ROMEO  
Draco Malfoy

JULIET  
Hermione Granger

FRIAR LAWRENCE  
Neville Longbottom

THE NURSE  
Katie Bell

MERCUTIO  
Blaise Zabini

THE NURSE  
Katie Bell

TYBALT  
Dean Thomas

CAPULET  
Seamus Finnegan

LADY CAPULET  
Lavender Brown

MONTAGUE  
Graham Montague

LADY MONTAGUE  
Pansy Parkinson

PARIS  
Cormac McLaggen

BENVOLIO  
Gregory Goyle

PRINCE ESCALUS  
Ernie McMillan

 

And the list went on with the minor players of the cast. Hermione and Draco faced each other, eyes locked, and were at a loss for words. Blaise threw his arms around their shoulders stepped in and spoke for them, “Looky here. We have some real-life _star cross’d lovers.”_ He bit his lips trying not to laugh too hard. “Fate is a fickle thing, friends. I shall see you on the morrow.” He winked and sauntered away, leaving the leads to chat but they were interrupted yet again.

“LADY MONTAGUE!” Pansy squealed in a pitch so high it could have shattered crystal. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me? Does she even say anything?”

“Tell me about it,” A deep, gravelly, yet cocky voice stated. “Well, at least Paris gets a few moves in on Juliet before she kicks the bucket. Isn’t that right Granger?”

Finally overcoming shock, she turned to that asshat McLaggen and responded, “Uh, yeah, Cormac. I think so.”

“Good.” He gave her a wink and an unwelcome smack on the bum before walking away.

The rest of the cast and crew had come and gone to find out their roles while Draco and Hermione stood there dumbfounded. Ginny looked at the two idiots and finally intervened. “Malfoy. Dungeons. The snakepit awaits. Granger. Let’s go back up to our tower, My Lady.” She looped her arm through Hermione’s and led her out of the Great Hall. Hermione’s eyes stayed locked with Draco’s until she could no longer keep her head turned in that position.

Theo was in the middle of an exchange with Longbottom when he noticed his useless friend staring into space. Nott tucked away his purchases and slung his arm around Malfoy’s neck. “Why the long face, mate? Come on. I heard you had fun at the audition.”

Draco exhaled deeply, as if he’d been holding his breath for an exhaustible amount of time, and finally said, “I’m going to have to kiss her in front of my parents. My super aristocratic, blood purist parents. Me. Kiss. Granger. Muggleborn. They’re going to see that I like it.”

“Oh, _fuuuuck_. You’re right,” Theo scratched his head and tried to think of something comforting, to no avail. “Come on. Let’s go back to the dorms and you can smoke with me. I think you’ll need it.”

“I think I still have a bottle of Ogden’s,” Draco smirked.

“Then it’s a party.”

* * *

“Ugh,” Hermione grunted and threw a pillow over her face.

Harry hopped over the couch and settled himself between Hermione and Ginny. “What’s her deal.”

“She snogged Malfoy at the auditions and now is morally conflicted,” Ginny said with nonchalance and a shrug.

Harry’s lips curled into a half-smile and leaned into Ginny. “So you going to elaborate on this tale?”

Ginny stretched and arched her back, much to Harry’s approval, before divulging all the embarrassing _(and sexy)_ details of the auditions.

Harry laughs and pulls the pillow off of her face, “So, what, Hermione? You have a thing for Malfoy now?”

“Urgh!” she covers her face again. The cushion muffled her speech as she exclaimed, “No! He’s vile.”

“That’s what you said about Cormac before you asked him to Sluggy’s party,” Harry jibed.

She threw the pillow at him and huffed, “Arse.”

Before Harry had a chance to add another quip. Dean reached Ginny’s shoulder to give her a kiss. “Ready for our walk, baby?”

Harry’s eyes burned with jealousy as Ginny practically jumped off the couch into his arms.

“Bye guys,” she waved as Dean wrapped his arm around her waist.  

Once out of earshot, Harry turned to Hermione and said erratically, “I thought they broke up!”

“You snooze, you lose, Harry.” Hermione stood up as well. “I’m going to bed and try to put this day behind me.”

“Kind of hard to do considering you’ll be seeing each other almost daily for the next three weeks,” Harry reminded her.

“Fuck me,” she rubbed her hands over her face.

“I’ll leave that to Malfoy,” Harry joked. Hermione gave him a swift jab in the arm. “Ow!” He rubbed his swollen tricep. “Go to bed, fair maiden. I’m heading out.”

“Where are you going?” she asked.

“No...where…” He avoided her gaze and ran towards the stairs to the boys' dorms.

 _Juliet_ continued pouting as she trudged up the stairs, hoping that a good night’s rest would provide her some welcome clarity.

* * *

The sixth year Slytherin boys were properly high and drunk less than an hour after they returned from dinner. Everyone continued to take the mick out of Draco about his casting and the day’s events.

“So Draco,” Blaise drew in the smoke between his pinched fingers and coughed. “I’m a little jealous.” He passed the joint over to Malfoy which he graciously accepted.

“And why is that?” he asked before taking a series of quick hits and _not_ coughing.

“Despite her blood status, I’ve recently noticed, thanks to your brilliant uniform shrinking scheme—”

“You’re welcome. Go on.”

_(I’m still mad about that)_

“Granger has a real tight arse and legs for days. Her tits,” he holds his hands out as if he were grasping imaginary breasts, “they’re not too big. Not too small. Like they are the perfect handful _or_ mouthful. How’d they feel? All real or a pushup?”

* * *

_“Zabini is disgusting,” Hermione remarks._

_“Completely.”_

* * *

Draco licked his lips, unable to lie. Actually, he didn’t want to lie. He wanted to brag the the fuck out of this. “All real, mates. Nice and perky, but still soft enough you know you could just rub your face and them and go….” He then shook his head back and forth and made a motorboat noise. “Oh, and when she jumped on me, I don’t know how I didn’t just blow my load in my pants. She must be wearing the thinnest knickers or none at all because I swear I could feel the heat and wetness from her snatch.”

* * *

_“I take that back. You’re more disgusting. There are much better words for the female genitalia than ‘snatch.’” Hermione scoffs. “And my knickers were mesh.”_

* * *

At this point, the other guys thought he was over exaggerating and rolled their eyes.

“Okay, Draco. We get it,” Greg joined in. “You’re going to have lots of fun with Granger in the play. Too bad nothing’s going off-stage.”

Draco’s mood changed abruptly and said, “I’m going for a walk.” He grabbed his cloak and slammed the door.

“What did I say?” Greg asked innocently.

Theo and Blaise smirked at each other, knowing exactly what was going on in Draco’s head. Nott reached over and patted him on the shoulder. “It’s not you, mate. He’s going through some stuff.”

Like usual, they forgot Vince was in the room. He had been sitting on his hands and hadn’t partaken in any of the revelry. “Oi! Crabbe. What are you doing?” Greg called to him.

“Getting ready for bed,” he replied.

“What the fuck?” Blaise peered at the tosser. “How is sitting on your hands getting ready for bed.”

“Oh, I always give myself a good wank before bed. I heard if you let your hands got to sleep before you do it, it will feel like a stranger’s doing it for you,” he said cheerfully.

“You are truly a pathetic waste of space, Crabbe.” Theo hit him with a petrification spell once again. “Off to bed, gents. Hopefully we’ll all fall asleep before we hear the gorilla’s grunting from self-pleasure.”

* * *

The castle was cold and the halls were empty as Draco rushed to an exit. Hopefully he could sneak out without being noticed. He turned the corner and out of nowhere, he hit something and was knocked backwards. A dull ache overcame him as he rubbed his backside. His gray eyes opened to see what the obstruction was—it was Potter under that infernal invisibility cloak. The two men stood up and dusted themselves off.

“Potter.”

“Malfoy.”

“What are you doing out past curfew?”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“Well, I’m not heading out to the equipment shed to grab my broom to head up to Gryffindor tower to talk to Granger and romantically coerce her to come to the window.”

“Well, I’m not looking for Ginny and Dean under my invisibility cloak to slip him a mild blood thinning potion making it impossible for him to get an erection.”

“Wait. What? Seriously, Potter? Are you _sure_ you’re not a _Slytherin_?”

“And you making some ballsy, heart-on-your-sleeve gesture? You sure you’re not a _Gryffindor_?”

“Touche.”

“Second floor from the top on the south side. The north side is the boys’ dorm. I don’t think Ron would appreciate you interrupting his beauty sleep.”

“Vaporize the potion and capture it in a bubble. That way it only hits him and not your Lady Weasley.”

They nod and passed each other, shocked at the bizarre bonding moment in their pursuits for love.

_(Aw! My boys! But Harry and I will need to have a talk.)_

* * *

As Draco rose higher and higher toward Gryffindor Tower, the air became bitingly cold. He counted the windows looking for the floor the sixth years resided. “North or south side. Damn it. I can’t remember,” He grumbled to himself. Slowly and carefully, he peeked in the windows and cast a dim _lumos._ He caught a glimpse of Ron Weasley sleeping with his hand down his pants. “That is traumatizing.” He put the light out immediately and flew around to the other side. Candles were still lit, beckoning the Slytherin to see how the other half, _(well, quarter, if we are being specific)_ lived. Hermione Granger was sitting in bed with her curls tied up in a messy bun, reading a book. His heart started pounding as he tapped the window.

Hermione squinted, allowing her eyes to adjust. A familiar shock of blond hair alerted her as to who her visitor was. Not even thinking to grab her dressing gown, she walked to the window and unlocked it. “Malfoy. What are you doing here?” she whispered. “Parvarti and Lavender are sleeping.”

He peeked into the room and only noticed one bed with the drapes drawn and another empty. His eyes widened in surprise.

“Yes, Draco. They’re lesbians,” she said, noticing his open mouth. “They sleep together. Thankfully they’re courteous and attempt to keep their relationship private. Silencing charms are a godsend. First time, Lav was so loud I slept in the common room.”

Malfoy gripped his broom handle as tightly as possible as not to fall off. It was bad enough that he was intoxicated. There were two girls potentially having sex in close proximity. On top of that, Hermione Granger barely wore any clothing to bed...no seriously. Just a thin camisole in which her nipples were clearly visible and shorts, highlighting the half-moons of her toned bum. All of these things combined—it was more than he could handle. He flew into the room, not waiting to be invited. An outburst was going to fly out of her mouth at any second, so he took a risk and kissed her before she could say anything.

Wrong move.

She slapped him across the face and said through gritted teeth, “What do you think you’re doing here? Boys aren’t allowed to be here! And I’m—” she looked down at her pajamas and realized she might need to cover up. She stormed over to her bed, grabbed the dressing gown, and wrapped it around her. “I don’t know what you intend to happen. And you taste like booze and weed.”

“You know what weed tastes like?” he quirked his eyebrow.

“Of course I do. Who do you think Neville tests his anxiety blend on? Oh nevermind,” she flustered. “You’re not supposed to be here.”

“If two girls can fuck in this dorm, a boy can have a conversation with you.” He made a very valid point. It was a presumptuous rule that only applied to heterosexual couples, and a grossly unjust double standard. “I want to talk to you about today.”

She knew she couldn’t get out of this and nodded. With her hand out, she gestured toward her bed. “Yeah, sure. Sit down.”

It was warm. Really warm. Draco wasn’t sure if it was their closeness, the tension in the air, or just the radiators. He shrugged off his cloak as she removed her dressing gown. Now he was really sweating and wiped his brow with the back of his hand.

Hermione bit her lip and attempted to stifle a laugh. “Heat rises.”

“I’m sorry?” Confused by her statement.

“Heat rises, and we’re almost at the top of the tower. That’s why it’s so hot,” pointing out the obvious.

He ran his hand over the bed covers. They were soft, but thin. Much too thin for winter. “I have a goose down duvet and a quilt. It’s frigid down in the dungeons. And my sleepwear,” he gave her a devilish look, “is a bit more modest.”

Instead of retreating into her previously reserved, prudish state, she leaned back with a coquettish air about her. “It’s not that hot in here. It’s much hotter on the floor above.”

“What’s upstairs?”

“The seventh year boys dorm,” she winked.

“Do you frequent the seventh year boys dorm?” he asked, hoping that wasn’t the case.

“Once or twice. When I was feeling exceptionally stressed over end-of-term exams. But...it’s been a while.”

He sighed in relief. There wasn’t anyone else in the picture. _Plus,_ she was no prude. That he could work with. Preferred it even. Merlin, she was doing a number on him. So many mixed signals. Guarded then flirty then the mind games about her rendezvous with older men. He was so flustered he almost forgot why he came here. His mouth was parched. Alcohol plus herbal stimulants plus scantily clad girl equal dry mouth.

“Do you have any water?” he asked.

She took a glass from her nightstand and cast an _aguamenti._

“Thanks.” He drained the glass and said, “Granger, we’re going to be in this play together, and I need to be straight with you before we start rehearsals.”

“If you’re going to tell me, ‘don’t get any ideas, mudblood’ or ‘this doesn’t change anything’ or ‘my father will hear about this,’ Don’t worry. I can separate fact from fiction. You’re a good kisser and the audition was fun. I don’t have any expectations—”

“But I do.”

Silence. Hermione was surprised at his admission.

“Gr—Hermione. Today was incredible. Don’t deny it.” He scooted closer to her then ran his finger against her jaw, just like he had during the audition. “Serendipitous, don’t you think? Neither of us wanted this, yet here we are. Now bonded, for the time being, as lovers. Who said that it only has to be on stage? There’s something here. Real chemistry and I think we should give it a shot.”

He leaned in for a kiss and she dodged once again. “Hold up. You. Draco Malfoy. Pureblood. The _bane_ of my existence for the past five and a half years... All of a sudden, _wants to date me?_ Oh, this so isn’t going to work.”

“Why? The whole muggleborn/pureblood, Gryffindor/Slytherin thing?” She was slouched against her headboard casually as he spoke. He moved in closer, placing his arms on either side of her, caging her in. “Admit it. The rivalry is hot.”

She sat up straighter and tilted her head to the side, “I’ll admit it. But animosity isn’t the greatest basis of a relationship.”

“Then how about,” his body now hovering over her and leaned into her ear, “animal magnetism,” he kissed behind her ear, “intellectual stimulation,” another kiss along her jaw, “and the thrill of the unknown?”

She reached up so that they were face-to-face, lips almost touching, and gave him her answer, “That works for me.” She pulled him on top of her and opened her mouth, encouraging his tongue to taste hers once again. Hermione reached for her wand on her nightstand and closed the velvet drapes. Hands roamed up and down bodies, discovering soft curves and taut muscle. Curious fingers undid buttons and teased hemlines. With the curtains blocking airflow, the air quickly became hot and steamy, the shedding of clothes was inevitable...Or so they thought.

“Babe, do you hear that?” Parvarti asked her girlfriend. The silencing charm they set up kept their sounds from getting out but didn’t prevent sounds from getting in.

Lavender sat up and pulled her shirt back on. “What do we have here? Giggling. Male groaning. _Granger! You naughty, naughty girl!”_

“Who do you think it is?” The dark-haired girl asked.

“Let’s find out.” The two girls quietly snuck out of their bed, leaving the bounds of the silencing charm. Quietly, scoured the floor for clues.

Lavender picked up a pair of well-made shoes, “He has impeccable taste. Definitely posh.”

“Okay, that narrows it down significantly,” Parvarti whispered in reply. “Broomstick. Nimbus 2001.”

“Ah ha! A cloak. Let’s see if there is embroidery on the inside.” Lavender’s eyes opened wide in shock.  She did her best to contain her excitement and gestured for Parvarti to join her. “Parv, you are not going to believe this.”

The other girl craned her neck over Lavender’s shoulder. “You’ve got to be kidding. Oh, we have to see this.”

“What do you mean _see?”_ Lavender asked.

“Just the sheer embarrassment on her face.”

“Oh if that’s the case…” She raised her voice and said practically sang, “ _Granger_...Why is there a broomstick in our dorm?”

“Naughty, naughty, Prefect Granger,” the other voice called. “Oh! This is one of the Slytherin brooms. Well, it can only be one of seven people…”

Draco started to laugh, “Your roommates are horrible.”

“They’re not that bad,” Hermione smiled tracing her fingers down his abdomen.

“Is it Montague? I know you have a thing for older guys, Mines,” Lavender guessed.

“Zabini?” Parvarti guessed next.

Draco sighed, “They’re going to keep doing that until I reveal myself, aren’t they?”

“Of course. Wouldn’t you and your friends do the same if a girl was snuck into your room?” she pointed out.

He leaned in and kissed her once again, “So, yes? You’ll go out with me?”

“Yes,” she smiled. “And if you go back to being an arsehole, I’ll dump you.”

“Harsh. But fair.”

“We just need to be careful. I don’t know how people will react.”

“By _people_ you mean my family?” he pointed out the obvious.

She silently nodded, and they both understood what this meant.

He brushed the curls out of her face to get one last look alone before he had to leave. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.”

A blush creeped over her whole body, “Alright _Romeo,_ it’s time to face the music.” As he buttoned his shirt and threw his jumper back on, Hermione called to her roommates, “One last guess. If you get it right, I’ll call the elves to bring us hot chocolate.”

In unison, they said, “Malfoy,” and tore open the curtains.

“Well, look at your mussed hair,” Parvarti teased.

Lavender added, “I’m surprised you’re still clothed.”

“Well, you girls are a bit of a cockblock,” Draco joked.

“We wouldn’t know anything about cocks or how they get blocked,” Lavender stretched her arm around her girlfriend’s shoulders.

Draco smirked, realizing what a night it had been. These Gryffindors were a lot sneakier than they let on. He slipped on and laced his shoes, put on his cloak, and grabbed his broom. He turned to Hermione, ready to give her a final kiss for the evening.

The moonlight twinkled in her eyes as they stood by the window. Channeling her inner Juliet, she spoke, _“Good night, good night! parting is such sweet sorrow, That I shall say good night till it be morrow.”_

 _“_ _Sleep dwell upon thine eyes, peace in thy breast!”_ his finger trailed to her cleavage, “ _Would I were sleep and peace, so sweet to rest!”_

“Oh, that shit is romantic,” Parvarti interrupted.

The new couple laughed, kissed once more, and he took off on his broom.

* * *

_“I like this part,” Hermione blushes._

_“Me too.”_

_“What the hell, you two!” Theo exclaims running up to them. “You were supposed to be done an hour ago. Now it’s time for dinner. Mines, you’re sitting next to me and we’re going over this. I really need your feedback.”_

_“It will be okay, Theo,” she reassures him. “You have a great start. Come on. Read it to me as we walk upstairs.” She takes Draco’s hand, and they all head upstairs toward The Great Hall._

_Draco then whispers in her ear. “Thank you.”_

_“What for?”_

_“For becoming friends with my friends.”_

_She leans up to kiss him, “Well, Theo was there for us. Helping him with his homework is the least I can do.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Please feel free to leave me a review or send me a message on Tumblr: [harrypotterandthegobletofwine](http://harrypotterandthegobletofwine.tumblr.com) or Facebook: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Life imitates art.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey party people! I’ve missed you! Thought I abandoned this, didn't you? Well, I didn’t. I’ve just been writing a lot of other things, and thank you to those of you who have been reading. Now, just to let you know, here is one chapter, another one is almost complete and the final chapter is plotted! Yay! Then I can finally get to the second act of A Girl Worth Fighting For! 
> 
> Beta: MotherofBulls (God, I love her. She’s about to finish up An Indefinite Amount of Forever, so you must check it out!)

_ After dinner, Draco trudges all the way up to Gryffindor Tower just to wish Hermione good night. He’s a little out of breath. Although he walks thousands of steps daily, there is something about climbing all the way up to the tower that leaves him short of breath.  _

_ Her housemates all say the password and climb through the portrait ready to squeeze in some last minute studying before heading to bed.  _

_ Parvati gives Draco a pinch on the bum and a wink.  _

_ Draco sniggers at how oddly comfortable Hermione’s roommates have become with him. “You really take advantage of the whole lesbian thing, Patil. I’m not a piece of meat.” _

_ Lavender asks with a hint of suggestion, “Will we be seeing you tonight, Malfoy? I think Mines gets lonely in her bed by herself.” _

_ He turns to Hermione with a little quirk of the eyebrow. “I don’t know. What do you think, Hermione?” _

_ With a little pout, she responds, “I think we had enough fun today. I still have a ton of homework and...I think I’ll be out of commission for a few days.” _

_ “Ugh, already?” he groans.  _

_ “Better than the alternative,” the curly-haired witch says plainly.  _

_ Draco nods. “Um. Yeah. Definitely. I’m not ready to unleash my demon spawn onto the world just yet.”  _

_ “Lav, isn’t it so great we don’t have that problem?” Parvati says before pinching her on the side.  _

_ “Yup! All the fun we like and no accidents.” Lavender grabs her girlfriend by the hand. “We’ll see you upstairs, Mines.”  _

_ Hermione leans in to give Draco a kiss, but Ron and Harry interrupt them. _

_ “Hey, don’t forget we have to study for Transfiguration,” Ron blurts out.  _

_ “Yes, Ronald. I know.” She rolls her eyes and looks over to Harry, “ And you, Chosen One? Any clever quips to prevent me from kissing my boyfriend good night?” _

_ “Nope. I kind of like him now.” He leans and whispers in Draco’s ear. “I snogged Ginny after practice...and then some.” _

_ A sneaky grin appears on his face. “Good on you, Potter.”  _

_ Hermione casts a suspicious look between the two of them. But lets it go. She’d rather her best friend and boyfriend be on good terms than chastise them for whatever schemes they pulled off.  _

_ “See you inside, Hermione,” Harry says before heading into the tower.  _

_ Draco takes Hermione in his arms and just enjoys a moment alone with her. He kisses her forehead, and asks sweetly, “You feeling okay?” _

_ “For now. It’s about to start so I’ll probably feel like rubbish by bedtime,” she puts her head on his chest. “At least we were able to squeeze some fun in earlier.”  _

_ He grins recalling all the 'fun' they had. “Want me to write the next bit? My homework is a bit light and I finished my Transfiguration yesterday.”  _

_ “Can I trust you to give an unbiased account?”  she asks skeptically.  _

_ “Absolutely not, but you can trust it will be entertaining and will make a dent in this ridiculous account of our coupling. I can’t believe my father is making us do this,” Draco said with annoyance.  _

_ “It's a blatant abuse of his power as a school governor to assign us this work as punishment for dating,” Hermione huffed.  _

_ Draco holds her tighter, “Technically it’s not for dating, but abusing our powers as prefects. But, this is exactly why we will leave all the steamy scenes. Just to get a rise out of him and so he knows this is real.”  _

_ She tilts her head up leaning in for a kiss. It’s sweet and not hurried. Unwillingly, she breaks the kiss. “I have to say goodbye. They’re waiting for me and I need to...go to the bathroom.” _

_ He winces a bit. “Ew.” _

_ That earns Draco a swift punch in the arm. Hermione laughs as he rubs the tender muscle, “Jerk.” _

_ “But I’m  _ **_your_ ** _ jerk.” They kiss each other one last time before she heads through the portrait and he makes the long descent into the dungeons.  _

* * *

The next morning was a bit of a dream. Draco and Hermione exchanged knowing glances from their respective tables. They met in a secluded corner before breakfast for a snog and a little conversation. With everything so new, and the Slytherin versus Gryffindor Quidditch match coming up that weekend, they decided to keep their relationship under wraps until the inter-house rivalry died down a bit. 

Classes seemed unending. All Draco thought about was the next moment he could put his lips on hers and feel her soft touch against his skin. He practically counted down the seconds until rehearsal. Years ago, he had developed a strategy in which he sat behind her in most classes. It started off as a means to copy her notes, but now, he was never so thankful for his laziness. Never was he far from her scent or aura. Passing messages was even easier. He just wished he had the good sense to sit right next to her. Then he would have been able to run his hand up and down her creamy thighs. 

When rehearsal came, they practically bounded into the Chamber, eager to rehearse all the kissing scenes. Though, the noise and commotion proved impossible to get into the mood. Construction was obnoxiously loud and working at a snail’s pace. If the building didn’t receive an extra boost of magic, the theatre wouldn’t be completed by opening night.  

Professor McGonagall leaned into professor Flitwick as they awaited the cast and crew. “So Filius, how long did you know you wanted Mister Malfoy as Romeo and Miss Granger as Juliet?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Minnie,” he did his best to suppress a giggle. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” she said with her usual directness.  

The little wizard looked up to his friend, and slyly said, “My need to play matchmaker may have been contributing factor influencing my decision to produce this play.”

“Filius!” She couldn’t believe it. He had pulled one over on her. “You cannot meddle in the children’s love lives! Honestly.”

Flitwick coughed and muttered under his breath, "James and Lily."

“Oh, you know that was all Horace.”

The students filed into the Chamber ready to take up their tasks. Madame Hooch took the Capulets and Montagues with lesser speaking parts for combat dueling practice, while Hagrid and Madame Sinistra took the stagehands. Madame Pomfrey headed up the costume department. She was skilled at mending children and clothes. Who knew? Pretty sure she was thrilled that half of the Quidditch players at this school were in the play. They were all trying to keep their faces pretty and wouldn’t risk playing too rough. This was certainly true for Draco. 

Girl Weasley rifled through all the old clothing that had been collected through the castle. Some of it was in quite the shabby state, but being a Weasley, turning those old rags into something wearable seemed par for the course. She’s probably had to turn bed sheets into summer dresses like in those Muggle car-tunes about orphans. Though, she was a lot better at magic than Loser Weasley. Maybe even as good as the Duplicate Weasleys. 

Girl Weasley noticed that Draco was watching her intently, and she glanced back with a daggered stare. 

Draco prayed he was going to wear a costume that didn’t look like curtains, or have tights that chafed his balls.    

A loud pop alerted a house elf had arrived, and he was carrying a variety of fine silks and velvets. He peeked his head from around the heap and squeaked, “Dobby has found clothes!”

“I see that,” Girl Weasley attempted warmly, but even she was pretty disturbed by the elf’s gigantic grin and enormous eyes. Carefully she rifled through the pile and found several pieces that could be altered to fit the Elizabethan aesthetic. “Not bad, Dobby. Where did you find these?”

“In the Room of Hidden Things, Miss. I even found this jeweled crown.” He handed the eagle-shaped tiara bejeweled with a large oval sapphire to Ginger. It sparkled brightly, and was quite beautiful. No doubtedly a relic of some bygone era. But what era? Who knows? It could have easily have been from the Founders. 

“Yeah, there’s no royalty in this play except for Paris.” She tossed it over with the miscellaneous accessories. “You didn’t happen to find any masculine looking crowns did you?”

“I’ll go back and check.” With a loud crack, the elf was gone again. 

“What the—?” Girl Weasley exclaimed as a garish silver sword presented itself before her, appearing out of nowhere. This sword was truly gauche. Okay, the silverwork was impeccable. Obviously goblin-made. But ruby inlay? Please. Of all the precious stones, it’s just so...so... _ Gryffindor _ . “Oi! We’re not using swords in this play are we?” 

Murmurs in agreement confirmed her claim. Haphazardly, she plonked the sword on top of the tiara, cracking it. 

A howling scream filled the Chamber and all eyes fell on Ginny Weasley, who herself, looked like she was going to shit her pants.

Professors Flitwick and McGonagall ran to the wardrobe area to see what had happened. They levitated the object carefully and inspected the crown which was now oozing a thick, black substance. 

Granger bounced right next to Malfoy at that moment and asked him a question. She was looking extra delicious in the ill-fitting, too-tight uniform. Like a sweet in cellophane just waiting to be unwrapped and licked. Draco licked his lips remembering the night before—their heavy petting and snog session. His pants were starting to bulge watching her lips move…

“Malfoy! For the third time! What happened?” She shrieked, exhausted from repeating herself. 

Draco couldn’t help it if she made him lose his mental faculties. “Uh. She-Weasley somehow summoned what we think is the sword of Gryffindor and then accidentally destroyed some dark object.”

“Wow. That’s...bizarre. Second time something weird has happened to her in this Chamber.” Hermione went from scratching her head in confusion to drinking Malfoy in, like the tall glass of water he was. She was one thirsty girl, licking those pouty lips of hers and parting them oh so slightly, as if it were an invitation to—

“Malfoy, Flitwick is calling us for a read-through.” She bit her lip as if trying to suppress what she really wanted to say. “Let’s go, Romeo. We have some  _ practicing _ to do.”

Alas, only innuendo. Draco internally swore that he would get her to say all the dirty things she actually wanted to. 

The groups all rehearsed, painted, sewed, and handled all manner of production prep for the next two hours. 

Ginny had several body forms with costumes on, awaiting pinning and embellishment. It was when she heard manly strains and grunts coming from the side of her, that she looked up from the meticulous work. 

Dean Thomas and Blaise Zabini were rehearsing stage combat and dueling and they had worked up quite the sweat. Red’s smirk grew sinister. "Mmm. I'd love to be the cream filling in that Oreo sandwich." While she thought she had uttered this to herself, it was most definitely loud enough for several around her to hear.

“Miss Weasley!” McGonagall called.

Red just shrugged. “I’m sorry, it’s right there. Two super hot black boys, me being hella white. I can’t  _ not _ make a sexual joke involving sandwich cookies.”

“Ten points from Gryffindor for cheek.” 

“Worth it.”

* * *

_ “Blaise, are you telling me that is genuinely what Ginny Weasley said?” Draco admonishes.  _

_ “Mate. Thomas and I almost dropped our wands.” Zabini snickers. “Then we shared a look, then looked at Red, then back to each other. The idea sounded promising...” _

_ Draco returned with a confused look. “Yeah, and how is it that Girl Weasley sucked face with Potter earlier today if she had both you and Thomas interested in a porn-worthy interracial threesome?”  _

_ “Well, that little minx is insatiable. We had our ‘Oreo’ moment, but…” _

_ “Go on.” _

_ “Well, Dean and I realized we had more fun with each other than with Red.” Blaise stretches and places his hands behind his head smugly. _

_ “For fuck's sake, Blaise.” Draco scoffs. “It’s like you’re on a one-man mission to turn the whole school bisexual.” _

_ “If we were only meant to have sexual relationships with the opposite sex, we shouldn’t have been given so many holes and digits.” Blaise then makes a lewd gesture, creating a circle with his thumb and forefinger of his left hand, and then pokes it with his right index finger. _

_ Draco then grumbles, “Three to four days…” _

* * *

The read-through was difficult. Well, it had nothing to do with the script or the acting. Flitwick had cast the players so well, it was as if they were made for the parts. Nay. The inexorable difficulty lay with the star-crossed lovers, pining—no—lusting for one another. The fluidity in which the words passed through their lips only brought longing to their loins. Aching for the sweet caress of the forbidden romance. Skin to skin. Lips to lips. But a few more hours, they would be reunited in her chambers.

* * *

_ “Shit Draco. You’re laying it on thick.” Greg teases. “I mean, I know it’s Shakespeare and all—“ _

_ “Look, I promised Hermione I’d write this chapter.” Sounding defensive. “Also, my dad is reading this, so I really want him to cringe.” _

_ “Ha! Alright.” Goyle chuckles. “Get to the smut.” _

_ “Greg.” Draco deadpans. “There is no smut. There is action, intrigue, romance, passion—“ _

_ “And fingering under uniform skirts when you think no one is looking,” Theo chimes in. _

_ The rest of the Slytherin boys howl in laughter, all the while Draco just blushes with embarrassment.  _

_ Blaise lowers his hands to calm them down. “Okay, loverboy. Finish up your chapter so we can sleep.” _

* * *

The two had snuck into an alcove after rehearsal, eager to taste one another’s sweet kiss. The day had been long, full of avoidance, attempting to keep up the ruse.  

“Pepper Imps,” she laughed into his mouth. “Nice touch.”

His smile was mischievous, and he wished he could stay with her in seclusion for hours. “I have to go. We have a scrimmage.”

Her pout was truly adorable, the way her full, pink bottom lip jutted out. He tried to lean in for another kiss, but she evaded him in protest. “Can’t you make some excuse?”

Draco hooked his finger under her chin and turned her to face him. “I promise I catch that Snitch as fast as humanly possible and end the match.”

She scoffed in disbelief. “You promise? You won’t get wrapped up in goading Ron or Harry?”

He licked his lips and snickered. “I promised. Potter and I have an  _ understanding _ .”

Hermione’s eyes shot open. “He knows?”

“Sort of…” Draco didn’t want to incriminate Potter and his own secret escapades. “I’ll play nice, and will meet you in your room tonight after dinner.” He held his pinky finger up in promise. 

She linked her pinky with his and pulled him in for one more kiss. “Play nice. I’ll find out if you don’t.”

With a wink, he assured her and left for the pitch. 

Well, here’s the thing. Draco did play nice. Even Greg and Theo. It was Loser Weasley who didn’t. 

He played the most aggressive game of Quidditch he’d ever played in his life. He saved almost every goal and proceeded to pelt the Slytherins with the Quaffle rather than pass it to his Chasers. 

“Ron!” Girl Weasley chided. “What in the actual fuck? How am I supposed to score if you’re practically giving them the turnover?”

The git just grunted like the neanderthal he was. A bludger came dangerously close to the two Weasleys. Fortunately for them, one of the Gryffindor Beaters was close by. Unfortunately for the Slytherins, the Beater wasn’t paying attention. Loser Weasley yanked the bat from the Beater’s grasp and whacked the Bludger right at Zabini. 

Blaise was completely caught off guard and fell off his broom. 

As Zabini careened toward the ground, Malfoy dove into action. He moved as fast as his Nimbus would take him. The speed at which he was traveling made it impossible for him to dislodge his wand from its secure location, tucked in his wrist guards. He muttered a prayer and hoped that someone in the stands would slow Blaise’s descent. It occurred to Draco that Blaise wasn’t reaching for his wand and no longer screaming. At some point, he must have fainted. Draco could see the grass coming closer and closer to view. 

With only about twenty feet to go, Malfoy grasped Zabini by the robes. He was still moving at an ungodly speed and realized they would both end up tumbling to the earth. As if the gods heard his heart pounding, Draco’s wand slipped into his hand, and he cast a cushioning charm before slamming into the cold, hard ground. The spell was enough to soften the blow, but not by much. 

Malfoy winced in pain, forcing air into his lungs. He was certain he’d bruised, if not broken a few ribs. Struggling, he clambered to his knees and crawled to Blaise making sure he was okay. A gravelly groan let Malfoy know that Zabini was semi-conscious, which was a good sign.

“Am I alive?” Blaise croaked.

Draco released a relieved chuckle. “Barely.”

The other players made their descent one by one, curious to see what state the two Slytherins were in. 

Incoherent sputtering came from behind Draco. Garbled apologies. Insincere words. 

A fire grew behind his eyes. Draco didn’t care about how much pain he was in. He bolted upright and stormed straight toward Loser—no—Deadmeat Weasley. 

“What in the actual fuck are you playing at, Weasley?” Draco accused. “You’re not a fucking Beater. What gives you the right?”

“It was an accident—” Weasley attempted to be calm and explain, but it was of no use. 

Neither Potter nor Girl Weasley, nor the rest of the Gryffindor team seemed to be able to intervene. Well, it could have something to do with the shield Malfoy had erected around him and the Weasel. He seethed but tried to remember what Hermione had told him.

Weasley knew he was cornered, and fought back, though there was no chance of escape. “It was an accident, but Zabini deserved it. He’s trying to steal Ginny from Dean.”

Draco sneered. “So you think that warrants attempted murder? So your kid sister likes black dick. I’ve heard of overprotective, but I think you’ve taken it one step too far Weasley.” 

“You don’t deserve her either!” The idiot shouted back. 

“Sorry, I’m not interested in gingers.” 

“No, you fuckwit. Hermione. You don’t deserve her.” Draco could see Weasley reaching for his wand but immediately disarmed him. 

_ “Stupefy!” _

Draco had really stepped into it now. He attacked an unarmed student and there were several witnesses. Detention was imminent, maybe even suspension from the team, prefect duties, and...losing his lead role in the play. While he knew that people would testify to Weasley’s attack on Blaise and Draco’s heroic rescue, it might not be enough to save his hide. He dropped the protective charm and stood there in shock as the Gryffindors rushed to their keeper’s aid.

“Draco,” Greg called while scooping Blaise off the ground. “You need to get out of here. Find Snape and let him know what happened.”

Without another word, Draco took off to the dungeons, looking for an ally.

When Draco arrived at the potions classroom, Hermione was wrapping up a tutoring session with some Gryffindor first years. He couldn’t help but snicker as the little boy with dirty blond hair looked up at his elder Housemate completely enamored. The other firstie, a little girl, was completely oblivious as to what was going on while she feverishly dictated what Hermione told them. 

With a pat on their heads, she sent them off. She was so preoccupied with her charges, she hadn’t even noticed Draco standing in the door frame. His smile was strained and appeared to be nursing a shoulder injury. He was back too soon. Much too soon. If he had caught the Snitch, he would have been off celebrating and boasting. Something was wrong. 

“Draco?” She approached him carefully in case anyone were to spot them. 

Unlike her, he threw caution to the wind and placed a heated kiss upon her lips. He felt her melt under his touch. While he had wanted to do that since their last encounter, the kiss was also a diversion tactic. He pulled away slowly. “Blaise is hurt and I think I’m in trouble. I need to find Professor Snape.”

Her usually inquisitive gaze turned soft and doe-like. It was at that moment that Draco realized how impossibly long and curled her lashes were. They framed her eyes in the most alluring way. 

Hermione swallowed, fearful of the story behind Draco’s cryptic statement. “He’s in his office. I was just going to go there and tell him I’m finished with tutoring.”

“Good.” Draco dragged Hermione by the hand. He didn’t bother explaining. She’d know the story soon enough. 

Without even knocking, Draco threw the heavy door wide open. 

Snape slowly peered up from the stack of abysmally written essays. “Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I should have guessed it was you by your unnecessary dramatic flair. Please, enlighten me. What is it this time? Potter call you names? The house elves didn’t spray your pillows with bergamot? No clarified butter with your steak?”

“Weasley almost killed Blaise.”

Hermione gasped in disbelief. 

Draco nodded, letting her know it was the truth and continued the story. “We were just scrimmaging, and Madame Hooch wasn’t there to referee. She just didn’t show up, but we didn’t want to cancel. Weasley intentionally smacked the Bludger—with a bat—and knocked Zabini off his broom. Blaise passed out during the fall and couldn’t cast any spells. I dove and caught him before he hit the ground, but not without the both of us still taking a tumble.” Without thinking, Draco rolled his shoulder as the memory of the pain came back to him. 

“And where is Zabini now?” Snape asked, sounding dire. 

“Goyle was headed to Madame Pomfrey when I left.” Draco squeezed Hermione’s hand and rubbed his thumb across her knuckles. 

She stood there silent, waiting to hear the rest of the story. 

“I’m glad you came to me. I’ll be sure to dock house points and speak to Professor Mc—“

“There’s more.” He steadied his breath. “Weasley and I had an  _ altercation. _ ”

“Altercation?” Hermione’s soft concerned face hardened, but it was still cute.” 

“I stunned him—sort of hard—after I disarmed him.” He felt a swift jab to his arm. Thankfully it wasn’t the bad one—but it still hurt.  _ “Ow!” _

“I’m assuming Mr. Weasley’s behavior has something to do with this?” The professor pointed at the couple’s interlocked fingers.

The two of them blushed, finally realizing they had outed themselves to the Potions professor. 

“Knowing Ron, more than likely,” Hermione reasoned.

“I need you two to disappear while I clean up this mess.” Snape waved his wand and tried to shoo them away. 

“Professor,” Hermione said softly, “Draco isn’t going to get kicked off the team or the play, is he?”

“I’m not sure, Miss Granger,” Snape sounded doubtful. “I shall owl Draco’s father and talk to the headmaster.”

“You’re not going to tell my father about—“

“No, Draco. Now run along. I have things to do.”

The two didn’t want to let each other go, but they knew they could be spotted in the corridors together. They both reasoned the common rooms weren’t safe, nor the library. It had gotten too cold outside, so they could also omit the Astronomy tower and Owlery. 

Then a thought popped into Hermione’s head. “Have you ever been to the Room of Requirement?”

* * *

_ “Done.” Draco blows on the parchment helping the ink dry more quickly. He then taps the stack of parchment and wraps it with twine. “Dobby?” _

_ He isn’t sure why he summoned his old house elf. Maybe it was a reflex, or subliminal. Either way, the elf arrives immediately. _

_ Equally dumbstruck, Dobby stares at the young Malfoy and states. "Master Draco. You're not Dobby’s master anymore." _

_ Draco can’t help but find this annoying. "You work for the school right?" _

_ "Yes..." _

_ "Well I'm a student and I want you to bring my girlfriend this,” he holds out the bundled chapter, “chamomile tea, chocolate biscuits, and a hot water bottle." _

_ The elf takes the package cautiously and asks, "And who is Master Draco's girlfriend?" _

_ "Hermione Granger." _

_ "Really?" _

_ "Yes really." _

_ "But Miss Granger has standards." The elf is now truly befuddled. He could see the young Malfoy begin to seethe and look alarmingly like his father. Like a war vet with PTSD, Dobby trembles with anxiousness. “I mean, yes Master Draco. But Miss Granger prefers lavender tea.” _

_ “But lavender tea doesn’t work with her condition. Chamomile, ginger,  fennel, and raspberry leaf works better for cramps.” Draco replies plainly. _

_ Much to his shock, Dobby replies, “Master Draco is a good boyfriend to Miss Hermione and knows his Herbology!” The elf jumped on his lap and pinched his cheeks. “You is a good boy. I’ll be taking care of Miss Hermione for you now.” With a pop, he was gone. _

_ “Aw! Who’s a good boy?” Greg taunts. _

_ “Draco’s a good boy!” Theo answers. _

_ Blaise snickers “Fucking racking up the boyfriend points, aren’t you? How does period tea and biscuits translate to blow jobs? Two? Three at least.” _

_ “Wankers. The lot of you.” Draco rolls his eyes. “What? Nothing from you, Crabbe?” _

_ “Oh, I petrified him about five minutes ago when I heard him polishing his knob.” Theo shrugs.  _

_ “That’s really fucked up, Theo.” Blaise shakes his head disapprovingly. “He’s probably going to have the worst blue balls. _

_ “Not our problem.” Draco smirks and casts, “Nox,” filling the room with darkness. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Only two chapters left! 
> 
> Please feel free to leave me a review or check out my Facebook Page: [saintdionysuswriter](http://facebook.com/saintdionysuswriter)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Forbidden trysts. Family feuds. Exile. Promises to another. This is all sounding really familiar...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MotherofBulls
> 
> Notes: Hello my darlings. We’re almost to the end! One more chapter after this. For anyone who has stuck with this story for the past year, and dealt with all of my ADHD as I worked on other projects, I truly appreciate it. And if you followed me and read those other stories, especially the non-Dramione, I freaking love you.   
> Alright, on with the show.

_ “So how did you sleep?”  _

_ Hermione feels her hair stand on end as warm breath ghosts the back of her neck. Rather than turning around, she reaches for his hands and wraps his arms around her waist. Unable to control her smile, she turns her neck to meet his lips.  _

_ “Very well, thank you.” She sounds impressed and appreciative. “Dobby said he was very proud of you. Did you ask him to bring the essential oil diffusers and a zen water feature?”  _

_ Draco feels momentarily dumbstruck but tries not to let it show. He knows his former elf is good, but damn. He is really good. “Of course I did. I’m every bit the modern, attentive boyfriend. Not a misogynistic bone in my body...well maybe one.” _

_ She snickers at that remark and reminds herself of the next few days ahead.  _

_ “I read your account. It was... _ colorful _.” Hermione shakes her head playfully. “Your father will surely get a kick out of this.”  _

_ “So we have the whole Saturday and no Quidditch or Hogsmeade trip. Do you think we can knock the last act out by the end of the weekend?” Draco asks. As fun as this all is, taking the time to recall the past is draining, and it is really time to wrap this project up.  _

_ “Maybe another chapter or two, and this puppy is done.” She sits down at the Gryffindor table, and he follows suit while situating himself between Hermione and Harry. _

_ After they both have their fill of breakfast, they make their way to the Room of Requirement knowing they won’t have any distractions. It is also incredibly appropriate as this is where the story left off.  _

* * *

They lay tangled in warm, velveteen blankets laughing. 

“Wow, Granger. You have some weird kinks. Was stunning Weasley all I needed to do to get in your knickers?” Draco smirked. 

She hit him with the pillow. “You didn’t technically ‘get in my knickers’—just your hand.”

“Semantics,” he shrugged letting a silence settle between them. “How long do you think I should lay low before we know if Snape handled things?”

Pensively, Hermione gazed into his eyes, seeing his worry. It was very unlike him. “You’ve never cared about getting in trouble before. What’s the matter, Draco?”

He sighed and flopped on his back. “Because you were never a factor in my shenanigans. Usually, it’s something I know my father would bail me out of. If he knows you’re in the picture, I doubt he’ll be willing to help.” With a start, he sat up and took his hands in hers. “I don’t want to get kicked out of this play, and watch my understudy _ —” _

“Cormac…”

Draco rolled his eyes at the sound of the name. Not wanting to let his insecurities to be known, he evaded her eyes and played with a stray curl. “I don’t want to see him kiss you on stage. We both know that you to have history.”  

“You’re jealous. That’s so…”

“Sexist? Unfeminist? Pathetic?”

“Adorable.” She kissed him tenderly hoping to put his fears at ease. 

Her lips upon his felt as though she had used the blankets to wrap them in a velveteen cocoon. He felt warm and safe. 

Pulling away from the kiss was almost impossible. She could have stayed with him in exile, but she knew she had a role to play. “I’m going to find Snape or someone who knows what is going on.”  Before departing, she uttered the following words of the fair Juliet: 

_ O serpent heart, hid with a flowering face! _ _   
_ _ Did ever dragon keep so fair a cave? _

He couldn’t help but laugh at the reference and yanked her back into his arms.  _ “'Tis torture, and not mercy: heaven is here…” _

She melted. Women are suckers for Shakespeare. Plain and simple. 

Hermione willed herself to be strong and resist the urge to stay. “I’ll be back before dinner.”

While in the corridors, she almost screamed as she felt someone place a hand over her mouth, and yank her into yet  _ another  _ alcove. But seriously? Who built this school? Why are there so many places to hide? It’s really counterintuitive when trying to keep kids safe and easily observed. 

Manic eyes pierced hers, as he slowly removed his hand and placed a finger to his lips instructing her to remain silent. 

“Nott?” She questioned in a whisper, unsure of his motives.

“Lucius is here.” His answer curt. “He is furious that the scrimmage match wasn’t attended by a professor, and that any actions that the players took shouldn’t be penalized.” 

Hermione sighed in relief.

“Not everything is roses yet, Princess.” He interrupted. “He’s already petitioned the governors. Draco and Weasley’s punishment isn’t too bad. They’ll have to serve prefect duties together.”

* * *

_“And what a fucking nightmare that was,”_ _Draco groans. “Seriously, it’s as if he doesn’t realize he has a nose. Did you ever tell him to stop being such a mouth breather?”_

_ “Oh, I know. At least neither of us has to share a dorm with him,” Hermione adds. “Poor Harry has to wear his Herbology ear muffs. The snoring is even worse.” _

_ Draco stretches and not-so-smoothly puts his arm around her shoulders. _

_ “How cliche.” She rolls her eyes at the ‘move.’ “Now if you don’t mind, we must discuss Nott’s flair for the dramatics. He’s almost as bad as you.” _

_ “Impossible.” _

* * *

Theo’s voice remained calm while his facial expression resembled a crazed banshee. “Everyone at school is talking about what happened on the pitch before Weasley went down. Your name keeps popping up. Lucius is no idea and is looking for the two of you.”

“And…” Hermione gulped, wondering what the former Death Eater had planned for the Muggleborn who was in a relationship with his son. “What does he want?”

“He probably wants to find out if it’s true. Chew Draco out. Find some way to break you up. Maybe Obliviate the two of you or something. I don’t think he’s going to try and kill you or anything. Not after the last time failed.” Nott’s voice was far too casual for all the bombs he just dropped. 

“The fuck…” Hermione trailed. “Yeah. Please, no Obliviation or any more murder snakes. What should we do?” She wasn’t sure of why she had turned to Nott for advice, but he was all she had at that moment. 

“Well, the first thing we need to do is get Draco out of hiding. Where is he?”

“The Room of Requirement.”

“The fuck…” Theo paused realizing the rumors were true. “It’s real? The room that just appears?”

“Yup.”

“Where? How?” 

Hermione explained how to get into the room. She was more than relieved to discover that Nott wasn’t a complete arse or moron like Draco’s other friends. The two reasoned that it was probably best if both Draco and Hermione didn’t see each other outside of class and rehearsal until they knew Lucius’s agenda. 

“Go to dinner, as if nothing happened,” Theo instructed. “I’ll get Draco and bring him to his father. Maybe I can get a read on him and…I don’t know. See if Lucius could be swayed in any way.”

“You would do that?” Hermione was touched and hopeful.

* * *

_ “Touched?” Draco stammers. “What did Theo do?” _

_ “For Merlin’s sake, Draco.” She throws her hands up in frustration. “Your friend was being kind. Is that so hard to believe?” _

_ “Yes.” _

* * *

It might as well have been a death march. Draco’s stomach was twisting and turning, and dreaded whatever fate awaited him. He really hoped it didn’t include Legilimency, Veritaserum, a Pensieve, or fucking Occlumency. Seriously. Sometimes magic fucking sucked. Kids just couldn’t get away with just lying to their parents. It might have been the first time in his life that he wished his father was a Muggle. 

The heavy door to the staff room creaked loudly, alerting those inside of Draco and Theo’s arrival. Staring back at the teenagers were Lucius Malfoy, and Professors Snape, McGonagall, and Dumbledore.

“Thank you, Theodore, for bringing Draco to me,” Lucius drawled as if dismissing a servant. 

“But Lucius,” Theo said smoothly, completely ignoring the elder Malfoy’s raised eyebrow. “I really don’t want to miss the show. I know that the play is only three weeks away, but I could really use a bit of drama in my life. Student life has been dreadfully dull this year. No escaped convicts, monsters trying to kill children, murder tournaments, or unjust governmental regimes. Just a normal school year. It’s odd. Perhaps it’s because Professor McGonagall’s been running the school while Dumbledore travels.”

Minerva suppressed a snicker while Albus looked dumbfounded. Hell, even Snape cracked a smirk. 

While amused with Nott’s antics, it didn’t distract Lucius enough to forget about his son’s interrogation. 

“Draco, we’ve already spoken with all the Quidditch players from both Slytherin and Gryffindor Houses,” the Malfoy patriarch stated. “While there are some embellishments here and there, a common thread runs throughout. You and Mr. Weasley will suffer consequences.”  

Draco felt his stomach tighten and he nodded in response. 

Professor Snape, Head of House for Slytherin, stepped in and doled out the punishment. “You and Mr. Weasley are to perform your prefect duties together. Additionally, for the next three weeks, you are to be chaperoned to classes, meals, and extracurriculars by one of your housemates, who will also report to me daily.”

“Oh, goodie! I get a job!” Theo clapped his hands with sarcastic enthusiasm.

Dumblefuck fought back a laugh. “Oh, no Mr. Nott. Lucius had an idea that I agree is quite brilliant.  _ She _ is quite the ball buster.”

“Bulstrode.” Lucius deadpanned. 

Both Draco and Theo’s faces wretched in matching scowls of disgust. 

“Father. I don’t need a chaperone—” Draco tried to reason. 

“Chaperone or drop out of one of your activities. Quidditch?  _ The play?” _

Oh. He was good. Lucius had set up his son and knew he would take the bait. The younger Malfoy hung his head in defeat. _ “I’lltakethechaperone,” _ Draco rushed out in a grumble. 

“I’m sorry, son. What was that?” Lucius’s triumphant smirk was downright obnoxious. 

“I’ll. Take. The. Chaperone.” He enunciated with finality. 

“You must remember to speak clearly if you’re to be a leading man. Come to think of it, I don’t know if it’s really the role for you.” The elder Malfoy rose from his chair and placed a hand on his son’s shoulder. “Which is why you will be swapping roles with your understudy.”

Draco clenched his fists tightly, refusing to pander to his father. 

Lucius gave Draco’s shoulder a tight squeeze, flashed an evil grin, and he was gone. 

* * *

_ “Your dad is a Grade-A mother fucker, isn’t he?” Hermione huffs.  _

_ “Yes,” Draco responds plainly. “Do we want to stay in this room and try to knock out this last bit?” _

_ “I need a break. Let’s go for a walk and maybe raid the kitchens.” She suggests.  _

_ Remembering that Hermione is on her period, Draco smiles and nods, refusing to say something idiotic to incite her wrath.  _

_ “Shall we, my lady?” He stands and extends a hand to help her out of her chair. _

_ “Thank you, kind sir.” She returns the gesture with a curtsey. “Do you think the house elves could get me a bucket of KFC?” _

_ “A bucket of what?” Sheer confusion washes over his face. _

_ “I need to get you out into the Muggle world.”  _

_ The duo convinces the elves to make them fried chicken. Disgustingly, it tastes like fish. They’re more than certain it was cooked in the same batter and oil as the cod they had for dinner last night. No amount of period cravings could make this appetizing.  As politely as they can, they ask for something else. Something sweet. The eager elves load them with all manner of tarts, cakes, and ice cream.  _

_ Hermione and Draco completely overdo it. Not only are they full, they can feel acne forming under their skin. She makes a mental note to take some detoxifying teas and apply a face mask. Draco never says it out loud, but he has the same plan. They walk through the castle with heavy feet, staring out at the blustering rain beating against the window. The weather is perfect for climbing back in bed, but they really want to be done with this task. So off they go back to the Room of Requirement and attempt to complete this story by the end of their tale. _

* * *

The next two weeks were sheer drudgery. Resigned to only exchanging glances across classrooms, and purposeful brushes against one another as they passed in the corridors, all hope felt lost. Even with the enchanted two-way notebooks they devised to communicate with one another—which was actually quite easy to sneak past Bulstrode—it felt like the relationship was coming to an end before it even began. 

Lucius Malfoy threw his weight around and got what he wanted. 

Flitwick was near tears every time McClaggen would flub his line or assault Granger with his large, gaping mouth. Gone was the dream of pulling off the best version of  _ Romeo and Juliet _ the Wizarding World had ever seen. To add insult to injury, Draco and Hermione still had scenes together as Juliet and Paris. The chemistry was unmistakable. As a member of the audience, it was really conflicting. All of a sudden you see them together and think, ‘Oh, I like him. He’s not that bad. Why exactly does she end up with the other guy?’ 

“You ship them.” Minerva scooted next to Filius. 

“I what?” The little wizard said completely confused. 

“I heard the kids using that term. It’s when you see a couple, be it real or fictional and you want them to be together, even if that isn’t how the story is supposed to go,” She explained.

The little wizard massaged his temples watching Cormac almost gag after kissing Hermione. “What now, Mister McLaggen?”

Dry heaving, he gagged out, “Her breath, sir. It’s wretched. Can someone get her some peppermints.”

“I’m so sorry, Cormac.” She played innocent. “It must have been the steak and kidney pie I had for lunch. I like to throw a little extra garlic salt. Oh, maybe it was the hummus I had for a snack. Or perhaps the spring onion flavoured crisps I had after that…”

The younger wizard covered his mouth and lurched as he ran off stage. 

“Miss Granger. A word.”  Flitwick didn’t look pleased. 

Hermione didn’t care. She stomped down the steps to her director. 

He didn’t bother beating around the bush. “Are you trying to sabotage this play?”

She pursed her lips and scowled. Then she nodded her head side-to-side, eventually letting her body go limp in a full-on pout. “No. Not really. It’s just…”

“You would rather be kissing Mister Malfoy.” 

Hermione’s body stiffened at her professor’s blunt delivery. It was the truth, and written all over her face. 

“Hermione,” The professor’s face softened. “In just a few more days, we will perform for everyone. And after that, Draco’s punishment lifts. If you’re still interested in him after that, go after it, but be discreet. Until then, the show must go on. I know it’s hard, but you need to be considerate of the rest of the cast and crew. Everyone has been working so hard.”

“You’re right, Professor,” she hung her head shamefully. “I won’t let everyone down.”

“That’s a good girl. Because frankly, I don’t want to use your understudy. Miss Parkinson is a little too…”

“Terrible?”

“I was going to say, ‘over-enthusiastic,’ but, yes. She’s not the greatest actress.”

Hermione wasn’t talking about her acting. 

“Understood. Can we take a quick break? I’m going to brush my teeth.”

“Atta girl!” The little wizard reached up and squeezed her arm. “Take five everyone!” 

As Hermione walked backstage to the recently completed dressing rooms, she saw Ginny, and a light grew behind her eyes. Her feet moved faster and yanked her friend behind the curtains. 

Stumbling, Ginny squawked, “What the? Hermione! You almost gave me a heart attack.” 

“I have an idea and I need your help.”

“Go on…” 

There was a dangerous glint in her eyes that reminded Hermione of the Weasley Twins. And that’s just the type of mischief she needed. 

“Owl Fred and George and let them know I need the good stuff. The real potent stuff that will take someone out for at least three days.” 

At this point, Ginny was downright impish. “What do you have planned?” 

“I’m going to save this play...and my relationship.” 

* * *

_ “Nice cliffhanger,” Draco laughs. “And you say I’m the dramatic one.”  _

_ “You must be rubbing off on me.”  _

_ “I would rather be rubbing you off.”  _

_ “Well, you can’t do that right now—” she pauses and moves in closer, “But I can thank you for being a wonderful boyfriend in my time of need.”  _

_ And with that, Draco can now tell Blaise how many BJs period tea equivocates to—three. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading. Feel free to leave a review. I’m also on Facebook: saintdionysuswriter


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Curtain call.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta: MotherofBulls

_Hermione stretches and massages her jaw, almost regretting how enthusiastic she was. Thankfully teenage boys were so eager, it wasn’t like she was at it for long, even if it was three times. She looks down at a snoring Draco and pats herself on the back for a job well done._

_She nudges him, trying to see if he’ll rouse. Nothing. Hermione sighs in defeat realizing she may have to finish the final chapter alone._

* * *

Harry frantically ran down the spiral staircase from the boys' dormitories. His face was twisted in disgust, looking as if he was going to vomit.

Ginny stopped him. “Are you okay?”

He rushed out in a single breath, “Yeah. Fine. Just need to piss. I can’t go upstairs. Heading to the prefects’. It’s McLaggen. I don’t know what he got into, but it’s bad. Real bad.”  

And he was gone.

Hermione turned to Ginny in a state of panic. “Gin. What have we done? I wanted him sick, but I don’t want him to shit himself to death.”

“He’s going to be fine,” Ginny reassured by grasping Hermione by the shoulders. “From what my brothers said, it's basically a 72-hour flu. It starts with some diarrhea and vomiting for about three hours. After that, he'll be getting a fever, and will sleep it off.” Her words didn’t seem to comfort her friend, so she continued. “If it gets too bad, I have an antidote.”

“Does it work?” Hermione asked hesitantly.

Ginny bobbed her head side to side indifferently. “Fred and George said they tested it on each other. I trust them. They’re way more honest with me than with Ron, so I’ll vouch for them.”

“Works for me. How about we ‘check’ on Cormac and see if he’s well enough to perform tonight.” Hermione snickered devilishly. It was evident all the people in her life were terrible influences.  

* * *

“Well, this is terrible news!” Flitwick flustered and gasped for breath. “What do we do?”

“Professor…or shall I say, director?”

A sparkle shone in the little wizard’s eyes. For a moment, he had forgotten about his understudy. His original Romeo.

“Draco!” Flitwick said all too excitedly. “Do you still know all of Romeo’s lines?”

“I do, but I could use a quick run through.” His eyes darted to his Juliet. This was the moment they had waited for. They would be reunited. All it took was a bit of mild poisoning.

“Of course! We have three hours until curtain call. Get refitted for Romeo’s costume with Miss Weasley, then we’ll rehearse.” Flitwick squeezed Draco’s arm affectionately. His production would be saved.  

 _“I again behold my Romeo,”_ Hermione ran to Draco and wrapped her arms around his waist, and inhaled his scent. It had been much too long since they were this close. “Are you ready for this?”

“I hope so,” he replied so timidly, his voice with a quavered with doubt. His hands found their way down her back and rubbed her soothingly. The longer they held each other, the more he seemed to relax and find his confidence. “I really do need this one rehearsal to kick my memory back into gear.”

“It will come back,” Hermione responded hoping to put his fears at ease.

“Oi! Romeo! Let’s get you into some tights.” Ginny snickered seeing Draco and Hermione unabashedly putting their relationship on display.

“Make it quick, Gin. We have a play to put on.”  

* * *

_Granger leaves her sleeping dragon to look for some friends who could help her recall a few scenes. She ventures to the library and finds Theo and Daphne, and Harry and Ginny._

_“Hey, guys.” She plops down in the seat closest to Ginny and takes out her parchment._

_“You’re still not done?” Harry stares at the stack in disbelief._

_“Ugh, I’m so close to finishing.” The tone of Hermione’s voice is a cross between eagerness and annoyance. “Draco’s taking a nap, and since he wrote the last chapter, I thought I’d wrap this up. But I don’t know what happened while we were performing. Can you guys help?”_

_“I have some of the backstage gossip,” Ginny smirks._

_“And I have all the dirt on Lucius,” Theo grins._

_“Is that so?” Hermione inquires. Pointing at Harry and Daphne, “What about you two? Anything worthwhile to share?”_

_They both shrug and shake their heads._

_“Alright then.” Hermione passes the parchment to Theo. “Can you help me from here with anything that was happening in the audience?”_

_“Gladly.”_

* * *

“My, my! They have done just a fabulous job with the renovations!” Narcissa exclaimed.  As she made her way to their private box, she marveled at the intricate wood and metalwork, cushy seats, and rich wallpaper decorating the theater. From her vantage point, she noticed the velvet stage dressings were illuminated by the well-placed stage lights. She was truly impressed. For once, the school had used her family’s endowment to enrich the school, not clean up some mess—well, except the basilisk skeleton. That was cleaned up...and a few of those fangs may have ended up in the Malfoy collection.

“Darling, how does it feel to be patrons of the arts, and have our name outside the theater?” Lucius asks proudly.

“It’s lovely, my love. And the Twenty-Eight private boxes! Such a nice touch. Do you think anyone noticed the little nod?”

“Seeing that you named the boxes after the families, I think so.” He kissed his wife on the cheek.

“Narcissa! Aren’t you looking lovely!” Theodore Nott strolled into the Malfoy box with Daphne Greengrass in tow. The young man kissed Narcissa on the hand, then formally introduced the women. He then extended his hand and gave Lucius a firm handshake. “We just wanted to say hello before the show starts. Don’t worry. Draco will be fantastic. I snuck into the dress rehearsal. It’s as if he was never the understudy.”

“Oh, how wonderful!” Narcissa clapped her hands gleefully. “I had no idea. Oh dear, the McLaggen boy. Is he alright?”

“Yes,” Lucius said, tight-lipped. “How is the lad?”

“Dreadful,” Daphne joined in. “I’m in Healer training with Madame Pomfrey. He spent three hours emptying his stomach and bowels, then broke out into a terrible fever, and is now sleeping it off. I had to administer him some potions to replenish his fluids.”

Narcissa leaned away from Daphne, afraid of how close she had gotten to the ill boy. “It’s not contagious is it?”

“No.”

The Malfoy matriarch sighed in relief.

Daphne continued, “Madame Pomfrey believes it’s something he ingested. Apparently, this isn’t the first time he’s ended up in hospital for something he ate. Last year it was doxy eggs.”

“Dense and a Gryffindor. Terrible combination.” Theo quipped. They all noticed the house lights flicker. “I believe that’s our cue to leave. We hope to see you at intermission.”

* * *

Draco peeked through the curtains and found his parents. His mother looked thrilled, excited to enjoy a night of entertainment, and leave the confines of her outrageously large, but lonely home. His father, on the other hand, wore a scowl that meant he surely had words for his son after this production.

“Places!” They heard the stage manager holler.

Hermione leaned up to give Draco a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a few scenes. Break a leg.”

He smiled back and said, “See you soon.”

Ginny came up behind him and gave his tunic a yank.

“Hey! What was that for?”

“Do you want to spend this whole play with your costume tucked in your tights? I mean, I could make you look more ridiculous if you’d like.”

Draco couldn't help but blush with embarrassment. “Um, thanks, Weasley.”

Ginny gave him a wink. “Knock ‘em dead, Tiger. I also have a few things that aren’t in the script that will enhance the scenes.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’ll see.”  

* * *

The audience was enthralled. To be honest, entertainment in the Wizarding World was really hard to come by. The moment Gregory Goyle spoke, nearly every mouth in the audience dropped in awe. He held the audience’s attention with all the grace and bravado of all the great character actors that had come before him. If he was more attractive, he could have given Draco a run for his money as the lead.

When it came to the first kiss between Romeo and Juliet, the crowd collectively swooned. A magical pink fog rolled off the stage and down to the patrons, followed by a glittering display of pyrotechnics around the theater.

Clutching her pearls, Narcissa turned to her husband. “My, it seems as though they have been kissing for some time. Flitwick’s interpretation of Shakespeare is very...colorful.”

“I was going to say blatantly oversexualized, but we can go with your description.”

In the Weasley box, you could hear how vigorously Molly Weasley fanned herself. “My goodness. I don’t remember this play being so erotic.” As Draco’s hand slid up Hermione’s side and cupped her breast, Mrs. Weasley muttered, “Romeo indeed.”

There were a few members of the press in the audience as well. Rita Skeeter sat in another box and mumbled to her Quick Quotes Quill, no doubt sensationalizing the production, or penning her first romance novel.  

Intermission came and went. Along with that, the final act.

Dracomeo approached the unconscious Hermuliet.

* * *

_“Nott, that sounds horrible. You can’t just combine our names like that.” Hermione groans._

_“You know, the character names are just interchangeable at this point. Come on, Granger, let’s just get this shit over with. “Rumor is that Lucius is planning a surprise visit.”_

_“Are you shitting me?” A voice came from behind him._

_“Hey, sleepyhead,” Hermione calls to Draco. He places a chaste kiss upon her lips._

_“I needed that nap. So you enlisted help?”_

_“Yes,” Ginny adds. “But I need to meet with my study group. I’ll see you all later.”_

_“Bye, Gin.” Harry grabs her by the wrist and pulls her in for a kiss._

_Hermione bites her lip in worry. “Theo, are you telling us that we will have to finish this by the end of the weekend?”_

_“By dinner. I overheard Snape and Dumbledore saying something about it.” He heard the panic in his friends' voices. “Come on. Let’s just charm the quill and dictate as fast as we can.”_

* * *

It was now time for the infamous suicide scene. Draco-Romeo walked to the unconscious Hermione-Juliet.

* * *

_“Better, Granger?” Theo asks._

_She rolls her eyes and continues dictating to the quill._

* * *

Draco spoke his lines with such sincerity allowing the three weeks of their separation fuel his performance. He picked up her limp body and kissed her lips tenderly _. “Arms, take your last embrace! and, lips, O you The doors of breath, seal with a righteous kiss.”_  With tears streaming down his face, he delivered his lines with intense, heartbroken passion. _“Here's to my love!”_ He pretended to drink the poison. _“O true apothecary! Thy drugs are quick. Thus with a kiss I die.”_

As Draco allowed his body relax next to Hermione’s, she started stirring. A painful reminder of how truly fucked up this play is.

* * *

_“No seriously. This play is garbage. Like who the fuck gets married that young and then just offs themselves? That’s not love. That’s psychotic.” Theo grumbles._

_“Focus, Theo. Focus.” Draco reminds him. “When was the last time you smoked.”_

_“Too long. I’ll need something soon.”_

_“Yeah, I’m going to go.” Harry gets up from the table. “It was great supporting you guys watching the play, but reliving this is boring me to tears.”_

_“Thanks, Harry.” Hermione scoffs._

_“Can I join you?” Daphne asks Potter. She turns to Theo. “Sorry babe, but I have to agree. I’m going to go.”_

_“Fine. I’ll help these arseholes. Can you stop by the kitchens and get those fruit tarts?”_

_“Of course.” She gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Potter, can you let me into Gryffindor Tower? I need to meet Longbottom. Oh, and then let’s go to the kitchens.”_

_“Hey!” Theo whines in disappointment. “Don’t have all the fun without me.”_

_“Finish up and meet us in the Tower. I feel we’ll be there for a while.”_

_Theo scrunches his eyebrows together hoping she was only talking about smoking._

_Hermione tunes everyone out and goes back to writing manually._

* * *

It was now Hermione’s turn. Her fingers ran over her Romeo’s poisoned lips.

 _“Poison, I see, hath been his timeless end: O churl! drunk all, and left no friendly drop To help me after? I will kiss thy lips; Haply some poison yet doth hang on them, To make die with a restorative.”_ She leaned down to kiss him. _“Thy lips are warm.”_

 _“O happy dagger!”_ She slipped the knife from Romeo’s belt and proceeded to stab herself. _“This is thy sheath; there rust, and let me die.”_

A hush came over the crowd with exception of soft sobs and sniffles. The players continued the cautionary tale as the lovers lay in each other’s arms, feigning death.

The curtains closed and the audience jumped to their feet. Hoots and hollers echoed through the cavern. The cast took their bows and brought out their director and producer. Flitwick’s dream had come true. It was a performance that would go down in history.  

After the final bow, the audience waited for the cast to come into the audience to greet their friends and family. Theo took it upon himself to intercept Draco’s parents before they got to him.

In a rare display of emotion, Narcissa was beside herself. “Oh, Theodore. Wasn’t it beautiful? I always knew Draco was a bit dramatic, but I had no idea he actually had talent!”

“I think we’re all surprised by that,” Lucius drawled.

“Oh, and he and that Granger girl have so much chemistry!” she exclaimed. “It’s as if they were made for those roles.”

“Dear, are you aware that Miss Granger is a Muggleborn—”

Before Lucius could go on one of his tirades, Theodore interrupted.

“Lucius, may I have a word?” Theo threw his arm around the man’s shoulders and escorted him away from his wife, in what could have been an embarrassing, public display of his blatant prejudice.

“Young Mister Nott, I would love to have a little chat, but there is a matter of some urgency, I would like to address my son,” he delivered curtly, astounded at Theodore’s lack of respect.

“Oh, Lucius,” He said flippantly, “I promise. This is all relevant. Come with me and stand back and survey the scene.” Begrudgingly, he followed the lad. “You breed dogs, correct? Wolfhounds?”

“Yes. But I don’t—”

“Your dogs are purebred I assume?”

“Of course they are, but—”

“As with most purebred dogs, you try to diversify the gene pool, within the same breed of course. You do your best to keep them healthy and strong, but over time, if purebreds are only breeding with purebreds, the pool gets a bit stagnant,” Theo emphasized.

Lucius was now intrigued by Nott’s topic of conversation. “Go on.”

“I do believe that your particular breed of dog has hip and gastrointestinal problems, they also have short lifespans, relatively speaking. Why, I was just speaking to Tracey Davis, half-blood,” He points to a pretty girl with short brown hair, “the other day. She told me her parents picked up a mixed breed pup the year she was born and it’s still alive to this day! He’s apparently brilliant, strong, carries all the best attributes of the different breeds.” Theo paused hoping he still had Lucius’ attention. The man looked at him with a nod, as a cue to continue. “Let’s take a look at Crabbe over there. I have no idea what he is doing in that corner. But he’s just staring. Possibly counting cracks in the stone, but only up to fifty, because he’s incapable of counting higher than that.”

“Theodore, he’s not that thick, is he?”

“You’re friends with his father, what do you think?”

“Fair. Go on.”

“Oh look! The cast is coming out. There is Blaise. Now Zabini isn’t a great example for my argument as he is good looking and intelligent. But Octavia had, or should I say, _has_ , so many lovers. You know we’re all on the fence about his paternity.”

“Now, now, Theodore. Let’s keep this conversation civilized, though I do agree with that theory.”

“Thank you, Lucius. I’ll start cutting to the chase. That wonderful list my great-grandfather put together of the Twenty-Eight families, has essentially destroyed us. Look. Pansy Parkinson, flat face, knobby knees, and crooked yellowing teeth. Greg Goyle, sweet and shy, but uncontrollable rage problems. It’s what the Muggles call, ‘bipolar.’ Me, yes, I’m brilliant, but I suffer from crippling anxiety, asthma, chronically sick, and someone described by body as ‘weedy.’ While Draco is a handsome, intelligent lad, we all know about his dicky tummy and the extensive treatments with Healers to fix the curvature in his spine when he was a baby.”

“I’m starting to see your point. You believe we need to add some fresh water to the pool, correct? And I should allow my son to be the first after years of self-preservation?”

“He wouldn’t be the first. Look at the Greengrass sisters. They’re beautiful, intelligent, poised, and healthy. Their grandmother is a half-blood. Just enough to set things right again. Now look at Granger,” Theo pointed her out in the crowd. She and Draco had emerged from the backstage still in costume. Friends and family were greeting them with bouquets of flowers. “Take away her status, what do you see? Think like a breeder.”

“Her hair is full and healthy, but it could be tamed. Nice figure, shapely hips for a young woman of her age, nice skin, and a beautiful smile,” he listed as if she were on show.  

“I’m glad you brought up her smile. Her parents are dentists. It’s their profession to maintain the health and appearance of teeth. Now she tells me, in Britain, it’s quite the lucrative career,” Theo explains. Lucius’ eyebrow raises in curiosity. “Granger and I sat down and did the math, converting pounds to Galleons, her family is wealthier than the Abbotts, Bulstrodes, Burkes, Longbottoms, Selwyns, Shacklebolts, Weasleys, and four other families I can’t remember off the top of my head. Lucius, the truth is she is the most intelligent, hard-working girl at this school. There is no doubt that she will make Head Girl next year and will be granted any position in the Ministry she applies for. While her family tree is not considered part of the Wizarding World, she is making a name for herself, and the Grangers have enough money of their own, so you can know for a fact she isn’t after Draco’s.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “All this talk of breeding, status, and wealth, was all to butter you up and have things make sense for the Great Lucius Malfoy. The truth is, they aren’t that different and they like each other a lot. They’re good for each other. You’ve seen the tale. You can either tell him no, and that he can’t see Granger, and he’ll do it anyway distancing himself further and further away from you and Narcissa. Or you give your blessing and keep your only son. It’s up to you.” Theo shrugged confidently, knowing he made his point and walked away.  

Lucius stood there and sighed. His wife sidled up to him and laughed at his dismay.

“How much did you hear?” He asked her.

“Oh, almost all of it,” she laughed. “I enjoyed Theodore comparing a potential future daughter-in-law to a show dog. That was an interesting metaphor, but he’s right. We need to let Draco make his own decisions unless you want to lose him.”

“And we don’t want that,” Lucius exasperated. “Though, I would like to test him. See how much he truly cares about this girl.”

“What do you have in mind?”

* * *

_“Holy Merlin, ” Draco says in belief. “We’re done. You can catch up with Daph, Theo.”_

_“Do you want me to spell check it or anything?” He asks._

_“You’ve been great, mate.” Draco reaches over and gives his friend an awkward hug. “Now go get stoned.”_

_“No need to tell me twice!” Theo kisses Hermione on the lips again._

_“Seriously, Theo?” Draco groans while Hermione laughs._

_He shrugs and takes off._

_They give their story a quick read and look for any errors, but before they can get too far, they hear the familiar click of dragonhide boots._

_“Son.”_

_“Father.”_

_“Miss Granger.”_

_“Mister Malfoy.”_

_Draco hands the stack of parchment to his father. “We did what you asked. The chronology of our relationship.”_

_“You actually did it?” Lucius’s lips curl up into a tight smile._

_“Of course, Father,” Draco replies indignantly._

_“Tone,” his father retorts. He quickly flicks through the pages and raises an eyebrow here and there. “Very well.” He tosses the stack in the nearest rubbish bin. “You two are permitted to court. Miss Granger, I took it upon myself to introduce Narcissa and myself to your parents. They have also given their permission.”_

_“You met my parents?”_

_“But of course.”_

_Hermione wants to inquire more about this encounter, but Draco interrupts, seething._

_“We did all that work, for nothing?”_

_“Not ‘nothing,’’’ Lucius reasons. “You two have had the opportunity to explore your relationship and now have a stronger understanding, and most importantly, your parents’ blessings. Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be joining the staff table for dinner. I’ll see you children in the Great Hall.”_

_Draco and Hermione watch Lucius walk away, and eventually follow suit. They were upset they wasted all their free time in the past week working on some stupid story that would never be read but happy to know there would be no more complications from their parents._

_A group of fifth-year Gryffindors approaches the area the three stood only moments before. The giant stack of parchment catches the attention of a petite, black-haired girl, and she picks it from the rubbish bin._

_“Santos,” Ginny calls, “what’ve you got there?”_

_“I think it’s that thing Granger and Malfoy were working on.” The girl flips through it and her eyes widen in delight. “Oh, this is good.”_

_“Let me see.” Ginny snatches it eagerly and begins to snicker. “We need to publish this.”_

_“But it’s missing something,” the other girl mentions thoughtfully. “Maybe I could tweak it.”_

_“Do it, Cat.”_

_“I think I will.”_

_~Fin~_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we have come to the conclusion of our rousing tale, in which the author has exploited the works of William Shakespeare, and so indulgently snuck herself into this story. Thank you for taking the time to read, laugh, and review. I appreciate you whether you just binged this for the first time, followed the slow-going work in progress, or are reading this multiple times. You are a treasure.  
> Now that this chapter is closed, I can get back to that love triangle known as, A Girl Worth Fighting For.


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